SHIELDED FROM FATE Skoliro fra Wyrda
by Tidustide
Summary: A sequel to Eldest Eragon has more power than he knows, and disturbing scenes enter his dreams which touch the spirit realm. Elves also arrive and the great forces of the land seek to pin Eragon down. Meanwhile, Arya struggles with newfound emotions...
1. Chapter 1

Eragon book 3

Hrothgar's Funeral

The air was filled with the smell of blood and of smoke: the ruins of war. Eragon's boot crunched on the ash strewn land as he made his way around to Roran's tent with Saphira. It was three days after the battle in the Burning Plains and already the clanging of swords and battle cries rang clear in his mind. He breathed in the foul air and opened the flap of the tent. Inside was his cousin Roran, sitting on his bed and studying a map.

_He broods much on his captured fiancé, _said Saphira sadly.

_Aye. To think that he ventured all the way here with the whole of Carvahall to seek help for Katrina is amazing_, answered Eragon thoughtfully.

_I agree with you. However, we must concentrate on the task at hand._

_Galbatorix?_

_Yes. And Murtagh. You must beware of that one._

_I will._

_I hope so… he has changed. More than we know I fear._

_I know, but we can't do anything about that._

Saphira stayed silent but he could feel her doubts through their link.

He smiled at her to let her know that he was there for her. Roran noticed their arrival and his face snapped up. He stood up and clasped Eragon's arms, grinning.

"Eragon."

"Roran."

"So, brother. How has it been? I've hardly seen you around these days because you're always running off to some meeting!" said Roran, pretending to be offended.

Eragon smiled ruefully. "My apologies. I've been cleaning up the mess. There were a couple of things Saphira and I had to take care of."

Roran nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, while you were doing that I was planning our route on the map… and packing provisions for the journey. You said we were flying to Helgrind and here it is."

He waved an airy hand at the map which had a red line for their route drawn on it. Eragon examined it and smiled.

Saphira peeped at it and grunted.

_For Eragon's nestling, you have talent._

"Thank you," replied Roran, taking it as a compliment.

They were just about to discuss Katrina's rescue when the flap rustled and Arya entered. Like always, Eragon's heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She fixed her emerald eyes onto his face.

"The funeral is about to begin... unless you wish to stay here," she said to him.

Eragon nodded and his heart saddened. "Of course. I'll come."

He glanced at Roran and he followed suit. The three exited the tent to feel the smoky air on their faces. Together, they navigated their way around the deceased bodies of soldiers until they heard the weeping sounds of countless dwarves nearby. Eragon felt a lump in his throat and forced it down. He saw the dwarves beating their chest and tears streaming down their bearded faces. Then he heard a voice in his head.

_Eragon, do not approach or attempt to talk to them, as they are in mourning_, said Arya.

_Why? Will they be angry? _Eragon asked, alarmed.

_Yes… it is difficult to explain._

_I'll bear your words in mind then._

_Good._

Thousands had gathered there to wish the murdered dwarven king and the soldiers a successful sending to the void. Widows mourned for their dead husbands and the people were a sea of black. It did not matter that they had duties to fulfil or a tyrant to bring down; it was a day of weeping. A dwarven priest had travelled to the Burning Plains for Hrothgar and the dead. He stood up and walked up to the platform they had built. The dwarf was smaller than the others, the size of a mere child. But he had the face of a wise being and Eragon had an inkling of what he was like. The priest made an impressive speech praising Hrothgar and his good deeds, and how brave every lost soldier was in the fight.

"And may we overthrow Galbatorix and his evil doings in the end," he concluded. In the priest's hand was a flaming torch and he lit Hrothgar with it. They had no time for the funeral to be held in the dwarves' homeland so it had been decided to let it take place in the war lands. Hrothgar's coffin flamed up and the air was filled with the dwarves' wailing. Amongst them, Eragon spotted Orik and felt his own tears well up in his eyes. Saphira breathed on his hair, ruffling it.

_Take heart Eragon. Soon all of Alagaesia's heroes' deaths shall be avenged, _reassured Saphira.

_I know, but I can't help it._

_It's all right Eragon. This is a day of mourning._

And so the day went on with more crying and low spirits. But already in each heart, there was a feeling of anger and determination. Galbatorix would pay.

The stars illuminated the ink black sky with power and the moon cast a glow around the funeral ceremony, giving the gathered people hope for the future. No one talked and no one moved. They all spent the night outdoors. Eragon stayed awake watching the stars until he too fell asleep.

That night a dream came to him, delving deep into his consciousness.

_A glint of metal, the sun blazing in the background, threatening to melt him. A man with crimson armour blocked his path, his face shadowed. Eragon met him in combat with a blue tinted sword burnished clean. The two danced a duel of flashing swords, each dodging and twisting to an imagined rhythm. Suddenly the image vanished, leaving darkness and Eragon panicked. Cold bars caged him and a burning pain erupted in his stomach…_

Eragon gasped and sat up immediately, waking from the disturbing scene. Sweat beaded his forehead and his hair was sticking up in odd angles. From the darkness, a small hand gripped his arm.

He flinched and peered into the dark. Two green eyes stared back at him.

"Arya?"

"Is something amiss?" she whispered softly.

"No it's noth-" he tried to say but she forestalled him.

"No it is not. These are dark times Eragon and you would do well to tell me."

So Eragon told her of his dream, speaking in a monotone. Strangely, the pain in his stomach still lingered. The elf princess stayed silent for a moment before answering.

"This is indeed news. If you have seen the future, you must not forget about it. However, your fate will be unavoidable… do not brood on it too much or it will be your undoing. For the moment, you must sleep and preserve your strength. We do not know when another war may descend on us."

"Aye… thank you Arya. I- good night," replied Eragon.

"Sleep well."

Still breathing heavily, Eragon lay down again and looked up at the sky, hoping to see a constellation. There was none.


	2. The Elves' Arrival

_Sorry about not uploading this faster but I was really busy… and I've got my exams but here it is, finally!_

The Elves' Arrival

Eragon's eyes flickered open as the sound of murmuring signalled the start of a new day. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and realised that he was back in his tent. _Saphira must have brought me here,_ he thought. Compared to the forest city of Ellesmera, his tent seemed dark and gloomy- a once forgotten past. Eragon ran a hand down his face which had changed drastically a short time ago. He was surprised that he had gotten so used to the elves' presence that he would feel this odd in a tent. He shook his head… he was losing it. Eragon pulled himself together and quickly washed his face, relishing the cool feel of water on his face. Then, strapping his borrowed sword onto his belt, Eragon exited the tent. He immediately contacted Saphira and she linked her thoughts to his.

_Had a good sleep?_

_Of course little one, you know full well that I can sleep like a rock._

Eragon chuckled at that. _Is that so? Well then you'd better tell me what's been happening in the morning while I was sleeping my head off. Otherwise I'd look like a fool in front of everyone, having overslept._

_Not much has occurred while you slept. Just another report of Galbatorix lying low. _

_Oh. Is that it? _Asked Eragon, a little confused. He had thought Galbatorix would be recruiting more men what with losing so much of his army and all. It seemed he was wrong.

_Yes, that is it. In the meantime, Nasuada wishes to see you. _

_Oh?_

_I don't know anything about it, so don't start pestering me. I will meet you outside her pavilion._

With that, she cut off their connection.

Wondering what Nasuada had to say to him, Eragon strode towards his liege's tent. He smiled at Saphira as she greeted him. Inside, the dark skinned leader of the Varden sat at a small desk, examining a map. As soon as she noticed him, another visitor entered behind Eragon. He turned around to see who had opened the flap and saw that it was Arya. Saphira also snaked her head inside to stare at Nasuada unblinkingly.

_Why is Arya here?_ Eragon asked Saphira mentally.

_If I am not mistaken, I believe we shall be discussing elf matters as well. _

_Elf matters?_

_Hush, Nasuada is about to speak. _

Eragon reluctantly returned his attention to Nasuada as she just began to talk.

"Well, I trust you had a reasonably good sleep last night, yes?" she asked Eragon, Saphira and Arya.

The three nodded.

She continued, "Good. The reason I asked to meet with you was because firstly, we are having some new reinforcements arrive: the elves."

Eragon smiled. It was about time for the strange race to join forces with humans and dwarves.

"I would have talked with King Orrin about this but he is in a private meeting right now and we really cannot wait. People have to reposition their tents so the elves may be able to fit and Eragon, you and Arya, will need to help me greet the elf general. I am not accustomed to your traditions as you know. But that is only one reason why I have called you. Eragon," said Nasuada, turning to him.

"Yes?"

"I heard that you and your cousin Roran plan to leave for Helgrind tomorrow… is that correct?"

"Aye. We've packed and planned our route there. We have everything ready… do you disapprove of our actions?" Eragon asked cautiously.

"Nay I don't disapprove, I am _worried_ about your little rescue. What if something goes wrong? We really can't afford to lose you. How about taking more people?" suggested Nasuada.

"Yes, I agree with Nasuada on this one," said Arya unexpectedly.

Eragon looked at both with serious eyes and said with a final tone, "No. I appreciate your concern and advice but this is… a personal matter that Roran and I must deal with. I am sorry but my decision stands."

Nasuada sighed and put her hands on her hip, her eyes turning grave and deepening into calculated thoughts.

"All right, you may go. But do not forget your responsibilities here and your place. You are a rider Eragon, the only hope we have of saving Alagaesia. Saphira, take care of Eragon. You are dismissed. Arya, I need to have a few words with you," was Nasuada's answer.

Eragon was relieved. For a moment, he felt that Nasuada would not allow him permission. As he turned to go, his eyes met with Arya's and for a fleeting moment, he saw the worry in her eyes.

Then he was out of the tent.

_Well Saphira, what did you make of that?_

_It was… most interesting. I would be glad to see the elves again. They have an air about them that lifts up your spirit,. _Came Saphira's reply.

_Aye. You knew about it didn't you?_

_Obviously._

_Sometimes Saphira, you are very predictable. _

_Hmph. But the question is: are you ready to go on a rescue without knowing what might happen to you and that you could die before you even lay eyes upon Galbatorix?_

_Maybe… but I have waited too long for this. And Katrina is in danger. We must help her… I owe at least that much to Roran._

Saphira tossed her head and tilted her head.

_I hear the clinking of metal and the stomping of studded boots._

Eragon's senses sharpened. _Could it be the elves?_

_I believe so._

A horn blew nearby and Eragon began to see a faint smudge in the distance. Arya and Nasuada also came out to see the elves' arrival and a surge of confidence built up in Eragon's heart.

Finally, the day had come when the mysterious race of the elves would link hands with humans and dwarves. After the three races had united, what evil force would dare stand against them?

"Well, well, well. Galbatorix will be in for a surprise," said Nasuada with fierce pride.

And it was a magnificent sight indeed. Thousands of elves marched toward their grounds, carrying themselves like proud warriors. Their colourful silvery hair rippled in the sunlight and their weapons emanated an unearthly sheen of power.

"Indeed," breathed Arya. Eragon's gaze turned towards her and saw a part of her he thought never existed: a vulnerable woman.

He knew then that she was not who she appeared to be. Arya spent most of her time guarding her past, but even she could not hide the feelings of haunting grief and sorrow betrayed on her face. Something had happened… something, Eragon knew, that was so torturous that Arya had distanced herself from her mother for over seventy years. He resolved to find out about it after he helped Roran rescue his fiancée. For now, he needed to focus on the task at hand.

The elven general approached them with an air of business.

He bowed. "Lady Nasuada," he said in a melodic but slightly business-like voice.

Nasuada touched her lips and twisted her right hand over her sternum as Arya taught her moments ago.

"General Alazais. I am extremely glad you are here. You did not encounter any difficulty during your travel here, I presume?"

"No lady. It was a peaceful journey. However…" he looked around sceptically. "Are you sure we will be able to fit here? Our tents are a little bigger than you may like…" his voice trailed off.

"Ah, now we'll have to reposition our tents. Do not worry, it shall all be arranged soon. For now, please rest… I'm sure you're journey was uncomfortable."

Both leaders bowed and Nasuada left, giving Eragon a look telling him to speak to him. The general's face lit up when he spotted Arya. Eragon felt a pang of jealousy. Every time he thought he knew something about her, someone else seemed to be more familiar with her, thus, shoving Eragon out of the picture. Disappointment boiled inside him but he stayed it and looked on with a blank face, struggling not to betray any emotions.

"Arya!" Alazais exclaimed, greeting her. "I haven't seen you out here in battle wear since eighty years ago!"

Arya smiled and faced him. "Yes, you haven't. And I thank you for the time you spent to train me."

"Not at all! Not at all! Although… it grieves me to think of what you have suffered through all those years…"

Arya shook her head, lustrous black hair dancing to her movement. "Nay, what is done, is done. No one should dwell on the past."

"Even so."

Then Alazais' attention switched to Eragon. His eyes widened and he approached him as if he wasn't believing what he was seeing.

"Argetlam… skulblaka… I am honoured to finally meet you. But how?"

Eragon was slightly amused. Still, he repeated the gesture Nasuada gave towards Alazais. "Atra esterni ono thelduin"

"Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr."

"Un du evarinya ono varda. How did I acquire such an elfish appearance did you ask? It was all to do with the agaeti blodhren, actually." And Eragon began conversing with the elf and explained what had happened that fateful night. Saphira occasionally filled in for him and Eragon quickly realised that he liked Alazais. The old general was respectful and honest. Also, he was comfortable to talk to, apart from Arya. As for Arya, she walked alongside them, smiling sometimes and joining their conversation.

Eragon would have loved to talk longer but he had to make preparations. He excused himself and began to help reposition the tents with magic.

_Alazais seems pleasant_, Saphira said.

_Aye. Better than I thought, _Eragon said cheerfully.

Saphira chuckled.

It was hours before the job was completed and Eragon found himself sweating quite a bit. Suddenly he sensed a different presence nearby and looked around him.

_Down here,_ said a familiar voice.

Eragon looked down to see Solembum.

"Hello again Solembum. What brings you here?" he asked the werecat warily.

_Nothing. I just wanted to see your progress. Since you seem to be doing well, I shall leave you in peace. But do not forget my words. They will aid in you in great need._

The werecat left.

Eragon stood there, watching Solembum go, and it wasn't until Saphira nudged him that he moved.

_Tomorrow will be a hard day, you should get some rest, _said Saphira gravely.

_I know._


	3. Light and Shadow

_This chapter is not written by me but is an excerpt from the third book and I've put this in so the story makes sense. I had thought about rewriting it in my own way but that would sound a little stupid so just bear with me._

**LIGHT AND SHADOW  
(An Excerpt from the Third Chapter of the Third Book of the Inheritance trilogy)**

Saphira kneaded the soil beneath her feet. Let us be off! Leaving their bags and supplies hanging from the branch of a juniper tree, Eragon and Roran clambered onto Saphira's back. They wasted no time saddling her; she had worn her tack through the night. The molded leather was warm, almost hot, underneath Eragon. He clutched the neck spike in front of him—to steady himself during sudden changes in direction—while Roran hooked one thick arm around Eragon's waist and brandished his hammer with the other. A piece of shale cracked under Saphira's weight as she settled into a low crouch and then, in a single giddy bound, leaped up to the rim of the gulch, where she balanced for a moment before unfolding her massive wings. The thin membranes thrummed as Saphira raised them toward the sky. Vertical, they looked like two translucent blue sails.

"Not so tight," grunted Eragon.

"Sorry," said Roran. He loosened his embrace.

Further speech became impossible as Saphira jumped again.

When she reached the pinnacle of her jump, she brought her wings down with a mighty whoosh, driving the three of them even higher. With each subsequent flap, they climbed closer to the flat, narrow clouds that extended east to west. As Saphira angled toward Helgrind, Eragon glanced to his left and discovered that, because of their elevation, he could see a broad swath of Leona Lake some miles distant. A thick layer of mist, gray and ghostly in the pre-dawn glow, emanated from the water, as if witchfire burned upon the surface of the liquid. Eragon tried, but even with his hawklike vision, he could not make out the far shore, nor the southern reaches of the Spine beyond, which he regretted. He had not laid eyes upon the mountain range of his childhood since leaving Palancar Valley. To the north stood Dras-Leona, a huge, rambling mass that appeared as a blocky silhouette against the wall of mist that edged its western flank. The one building Eragon could identify was the cathedral where the Ra'zac had attacked him; its flanged spire loomed above the rest of the city, like a barbed spearhead. And somewhere in the landscape that rushed past below, Eragon knew, were the remnants of the campsite where the Ra'zac had mortally wounded Brom. He allowed all of his anger and grief over the events of that day—as well as Garrow's murder and the destruction of their farm—to surge forth and give him the courage, nay, the desire, to face the Ra'zac in combat.

_Eragon_, said Saphira. _Today we need not guard our minds and keep our thoughts secret from one another, do we?_  
_  
__Not unless another __magician__ should appear._

A fan of golden light flared into existence as the top of the sun crested the horizon. In an instant, the full spectrum of colors enlivened the previously drab world: the mist glowed white, the water became a rich blue, the daubed-mud wall that encircled the center of Dras-Leona revealed its dingy yellow sides, the trees cloaked themselves in every shade of green, and the soil blushed red and orange. Helgrind, however, remained as it always was—black. The mountain of stone rapidly grew larger as they approached. Even from the air, it was intimidating.

Diving toward the base of Helgrind, Saphira tilted so far to her left, Eragon and Roran would have fallen if they had not already strapped their legs to the saddle. Then she whipped around the apron of scree and over the altar where the priests of Helgrind observed their ceremonies. The lip of Eragon's helm caught the wind from her passage and produced a howl that almost deafened him.

"Well?" shouted Roran. He could not see in front of them. "The slaves are gone!"

A great weight seemed to press Eragon into his seat as Saphira pulled out of her dive and spiraled up around Helgrind, searching for an entrance to the Ra'zac's hideout.  
_  
__Not even a hole big enough for a woodrat,_ she declared. She slowed and hung in place before a ridge that connected the third lowest of the four peaks to the prominence above. The jagged buttress magnified the boom produced by each stroke of her wings until it was as loud as a thunderclap. Eragon's eyes watered as the air pulsed against his skin.

A web of white veins adorned the backside of the crags and pillars, where hoarfrost had collected in the cracks that furrowed the rock. Nothing else disturbed the gloom of Helgrind's inky, windswept ramparts. No trees grew there among the slanting stones, nor shrubs, nor grass, nor moss, nor lichen, nor did eagles dare nest upon the tower's broken ledges. True to its name, Helgrind was a place of death, and stood cloaked in the razor-sharp, sawtoothed folds of its scarps and clefts like a bony specter risen to haunt the earth.

Casting his mind outward, Eragon confirmed the presence of one of the slaves, as well as the two people whom he had discovered imprisoned within Helgrind the previous day, but to his concern, he could not locate the Ra'zac or the Lethrblaka. If they aren't here, then where? he wondered. Searching again, he noticed something that had eluded him before: a single flower, a gentian, blooming not fifty feet in front of them where, by all rights, there ought to be solid rock. How does it get enough light to live?

Saphira answered his question by perching on a crumbling spur several feet to the right. As she did, she lost her balance for a moment and flared her wings to steady herself. Instead of brushing against the bulk of Helgrind, the tip of her right wing dipped into the rock and then back out again.

_Saphira, did you see that!_  
_  
__I did._

Leaning forward, Saphira pushed the tip of her snout toward the sheer rock, paused an inch or two away—as if waiting for a trap to spring—then continued her advance. Scale by scale, Saphira's head slid into Helgrind, until all that was visible of her to Eragon was a neck, torso, and wings.

_It's an illusion! _exclaimed Saphira.

With a surge of her mighty thews, she abandoned the spur and flung the rest of her body after her head. It required every bit of Eragon's self-control not to cover his face in a desperate bid to protect himself as the crag rushed toward him.

An instant later, he found himself looking at a broad, vaulted cave suffused with the warm glow of morning. Saphira's scales refracted the light, casting thousands of shifting blue flecks across the rock. Twisting around, Eragon saw no wall behind them, only the mouth of the cave and a sweeping view of the landscape beyond.

Eragon grimaced. It had never occurred to him that Galbatorix might have hidden the Ra'zac's lair with magic. _Idiot! I have to do better_, he thought. Underestimating the king was a sure way to get them all killed.

Roran swore and said, "Warn me before you do something like that again."

Hunching forward, Eragon unbuckled his legs from the saddle as he studied their surroundings, alert for any danger.

The opening to the cave was an irregular oval, perhaps fifty feet high and sixty feet wide. From there, the chamber expanded to twice that size before ending a good bowshot away in a pile of thick stone slabs that leaned against each other in a confusion of uncertain angles. A mat of powder-gray scratches defaced the floor, evidence of the many times the Lethrblaka had taken off, landed, and walked about thereon. Like mysterious keyholes, five low tunnels pierced the sides of the cave, as did a lancet passageway large enough to accommodate Saphira. Eragon examined the tunnels carefully, but they were pitch-black and appeared vacant, a fact he confirmed with quick thrusts of his mind. Strange, disjointed murmurs echoed from within Helgrind's innards, suggesting unknown things scurrying about in the dark, and endlessly dripping water. Adding to the chorus of whispers was the steady rise and fall of Saphira's breathing, which was overloud in the confines of the bare chamber.

The most distinctive feature of the cavern, however, was the mixture of odors that pervaded it. The smell of cold stone dominated, but underneath it, Eragon discerned whiffs of damp and mold and something far worse: the sickly-sweet fetor of rotting meat.

Undoing the last few straps, Eragon swung his right leg over Saphira's spine, so he was sitting sidesaddle, and prepared to jump off her back. Roran did the same on the opposite side.

Before he released his hold, Eragon heard, amid the many rustlings that teased his ear, a score of simultaneous clicks, as if someone had struck the rock with a collection of hammers. The sound repeated itself a half-second later.

He looked in the direction of the noise, as did Saphira.

A huge, twisted shape hurtled out of the lancet passageway. Eyes black, bulging, rimless. A beak seven feet long. Batlike wings. The torso naked, hairless, rippling with muscle. Claws like iron spikes.

Saphira lurched as she tried to evade the Lethrblaka, but to no avail. The creature crashed into her right side with what felt to Eragon like the strength and fury of an avalanche.

What exactly happened next, he knew not, for the impact sent him tumbling through space without so much as a half-formed thought in his jumbled brain. His blind flight ended as abruptly as it began when something hard and flat rammed against the back of him, and he dropped to the floor, banging his head a second time.

That last collision drove the remaining air clean out of Eragon's lungs. Stunned, he lay curled on his side, gasping and struggling to regain a semblance of control over his unresponsive limbs.

_Eragon! _cried Saphira.


	4. Slave

Slave

_Eragon! _

Saphira's last word before he passed out rang in his ears. He gasped and tried to move but found this difficult as his head swam with the after effects of the impact. Finally he decided to wait before his limbs recovered enough to let him move.

"Eragon!" came Roran's voice, concerned.

His cousin's face and Saphira's came into view and Roran sighed in relief as he noticed nothing major.

"Are you all right? Nothing broken?"

"Aye… I think so." Eragon struggled to pull himself upright and Roran helped him up. "Thanks."

"You're welcome…" then Roran faltered when he saw Eragon casting around him for the Lethrblaka. "Don't worry, Saphira and I took care of them."

_That we did,_ growled Saphira.

"Where are they now?" Eragon asked.

"I don't know but they fled as soon as they discovered that we were too much for them to handle."

Eragon wanted to question him more but restrained himself. They needed to move on.

"Well, wherever they've gone to, I don't think they were staying here by chance."

_That is what we thought too. I suggest we proceed through the tunnels, _Saphira voiced her opinion.

Roran nodded in agreement.

"The Ra'zac must have known we would come for Katrina and prepared to set the Lethrblaka upon us," said Eragon.

"Well it wasn't very successful was it?" Roran said triumphantly.

"I don't know… but nevertheless, we should continue on. Come on Saphira," answered Eragon doubtfully.

_All right, but tread with caution. The air reeks of evil. _

He chose a tunnel which was somewhat lighter than the other ones. _Whatever purpose they serve, it obviously leads to somewhere. I just hope it's the right place, _Eragon thought worriedly.

Though the tunnel was big enough to fit Saphira, her head still skimmed the top and Eragon worried that she might bring it down on them. Suddenly without warning, Saphira jumped a little and her head banged against the tunnel roof. Eragon and Roran turned, but before they could react, a low rumble vibrated the passageway and Eragon felt cold fear clutch his heart. A dozen thin whistling sounds headed towards them and Eragon barely had time to yell "Duck!" as they were showered with numerous sharp knives that would have killed them if not for Saphira's protection. After the sudden assault, Eragon and Roran came out from Saphira's wings. There were small tears in Saphira's wings which were made during the attack.

"Thank you Saphira," Eragon said.

"I owe you my thanks as well," Roran said breathlessly.

_You're welcome,_ replied Saphira with some amusement.

Eragon smiled a little and put his hand over her injuries to heal them when an unyielding pressure of magic bore down on him, preventing him from summoning his energy. He released his hold on magic with shock and backed away.

"What just happened?" he exclaimed.

_That's what I'd like to ask, _Saphira said irritatedly. _It seems that there is magic at work. Someone wants to keep you from using magic. _

"I think… I think the Ra'zac wants to tire us out before we confront them. It's the only logical explanation: it's highly likely that they will bombard us with various ambushes and tire us out quicker by preventing me from using magic and by the time we've reached them… well… let's get to that later," said Eragon thoughtfully. "I'm afraid you'll just have to bear with your injuries for now."

_Nothing we can do about that._

"I never knew magic could be suppressed," said Roran.

"Neither did I," answered Eragon wearily.

"But then… how will we protect ourselves? It's hardly spacious in here and since magic is out of the question… Saphira, do you have a suggestion?" answered Roran uneasily.

_Just the one. But I do not think it would be hugely effective, _said Saphira.

"What is it?" asked Eragon curiously, ready for anything in this doubtful situation.

_Well, we should proceed in a certain order. I should be at the back to protect you, Eragon should be at the front since he has quicker reflexes… and Roran in the middle to stabilise the balance of attack. _

"Hmmm… perhaps. But since it's the only option we have open to us, we should follow it," said Eragon, sighing. "Roran, I'm going to have to borrow your shield. It's bigger than mine."

Roran wordlessly handed it to him and Eragon began to lead the way, all the while looking for the slightest movements that could mean another attack. The more they advanced, the more the smell of rotting flesh strengthened. It was not pleasant.

_Everything feels wrong here. The look, the eerie silence, the feel and the smell. It's too evil. _Eragon thought disgustedly.

_The Ra'zac are evil. You know that Eragon._

_Yes, but even so. _

_Concentrate and don't let your fear cloud your mind. _

_Ha, you sound like Master Oromis. _

Eragon heard Saphira chortle through their mental link.

The tunnel twisted and turned and Eragon felt it would never end, but finally he saw light up ahead.

He silently turned his attention to Saphira and Roran and mouthed 'light'.

Eragon approached the opening carefully so as to not trigger another dangerous attack. Blinding light enveloped them and it was a while before Eragon's eyes had adjusted to the light that was a contrast to the gloom of the tunnel.

After he had, Eragon surveyed the room in which they had arrived in.

It was a cell.

Horrific moans drifted out to meet his ears and his eyes beheld an infuriating sight. Behind bars were countless human slaves dirtied to the point of beggars. Some even had missing limbs and many stared at him with hopeful eyes. The sight sickened him.

_So this is what Galbatorix does to his people. He treats them like animals, _Eragon thought venomously.

"So this is where they keep the slaves," said Roran quietly. Then he seemed to tremble and he sped up, overtaking Eragon. Knowing that if Eragon did not restrain Roran, he gripped his cousin's arm and yanked him around.

"Roran, I know you are desperate to save Katrina," Eragon hissed. "But if you insist on walking into danger, if would all end for ill."

Roran glared at him for a moment before averting his gaze. "All right. But I'll have you pay if you let her die."

Eragon smiled weakly. "It's good that you have your sense back."

Roran grunted and pushed Eragon's hand away.

_We should get some information out of these slaves… it's the best we can do at the moment._

"All right Saphira," said Eragon, whispering. "Roran, try to talk to some of them. Then we can free them."

Roran nodded and began to talk to a particularly innocent looking slave in an undertone.

Eragon decided to speak to the slave's companion. The slave quailed in fright before Saphira and backed away from the bars.

"It's all right, we are here to help you," Eragon said, attempting to soothe the slave. "What is your name?"

"Laron, son of Duvak. Please Rider, you must help us. The accursed monsters intend to eat us alive," the man continued with a sob, "they've eaten my wife and daughter but please, free us to stop further pain!"

The dishevelled man seemed so pitiful and poor that Eragon immediately felt sympathy for him.

"Fear not, but tell me what you know of this place. Do you know where they keep the other prisoners?" asked Eragon.

"Aye. Go out that door, turn to the left, look for a black knob on the wall through the corridor and a door shall open for you," answered the slave enthusiastically.

Eragon reached out for the man's consciousness but found nothing suspicious and knew he told the truth. He nodded and stood.

With his sword he hacked at the bars and the steel bent under the force of his blow. Satisfied, Eragon did the same for the other cells, and Roran hammered the remaining bits away so the slaves would get out safely without cutting themselves. Saphira melted the rest with her fire and the slaves were safely out. All of them knelt at Eragon's feet and gave him tearful thanks. Eragon smiled sadly and told them to wait for them at the exit. Then without a backwards glance, Eragon made his way towards the door with Saphira and Roran. But something made him stop. He whirled around as he felt the room shift and realised it was an illusion. The two slaves who had helped them grinned maliciously at them and their appearance began to change. Their eyes transformed into glowing globes as big as Eragon's fist. Their skin turned shiny black and they slowly changed into the Ra'zac right before their eyes. Saphira growled viciously.

_I knew there was something odd about this room!_ She snarled.

_But how did they manage to make this illusion? The energy it would have taken! _Eragon thought, astonished.

_I don't know… but this is our chance!_

Eragon nodded and drew his sword again. Roran brandished his massive hammer and Saphira rumbled.

"Sssso," the Ra'zac drawled. "You have come Ssshadessslayer."

"And you have fallen right into our trap," cackled the second Ra'zac.

"And thisss time… you shall not essscape!"


	5. The Pain of Relationships

The Pain of Relationships

Arya stopped between her pacing. It was the second day from when Eragon had left with Saphira and Roran to infiltrate the Ra'zac's lair and she was beginning to become worried. She knew the boy could be reckless and overconfident at times and much depended on him. However, Arya also knew it was not her place to judge him so harshly. He was not, she thought, the same man she had first sparred with in the Varden. She sighed in frustration. Ever since Eragon insisted on pursuing her, her heart had become somewhat more guarded than before. Arya knew it had not been an ordinary relationship. She was fond of him, he was… like a younger brother to her. A good friend. But that friendship had been slightly out of balance lately. She found herself wanting to avoid him more and more. Arya heavily sat down on the edge of her bed in the tent. She was confused. And why was she even _thinking_ about the matter? It did not even interest her. Faolin would… no, she would not think about _him_ now. It would drain the energy out of her. Shrugging her worries off, she kept her expression neutral and strong so people would not underestimate her and strode out of the tent. Yes, a good stroll would do her good. Then she noticed a werecat prancing along towards her. _Perhaps it is the werecat Eragon was talking about,_ Arya thought with amusement.

Then a voice broke into her mind and she started.

_Peace and greetings. I am Solembum… or perhaps Eragon has already told you this?_ The voice said, and Arya knew it came from the werecat. It stared at her with solemn but bright eyes. Solembum swished his tail lazily.

_Aye he has. Do you have something of importance to tell me?_ For Arya knew werecats did not approach someone lightly.

_Actually, my human companion Angela the herbalist wishes to meet with you, _replied the werecat mysteriously.

_Angela?_ Arya cocked an eyebrow. What did the witch want with her? Throughout the events, she never really had acquainted herself with the strange herbalist and never really thought to. She hesitated. This was not a time when she was comfortable with the company of humans.

_Pardon my rudeness but I have no wish to speak to anyone at the moment. Tell Angela to arrange a meeting another time for I am busy,_ she continued tartly and started to leave.

_Sorrows of the past can be healed you know. I suggest you meet with Angela… unless you want to chain yourself to the past which is quite a waste of time, if you ask me. I'm sure Faolin would have been of the same opinion._

Arya spun around in surprise. _How did you-?_

But Solembum was already gone. Arya cursed and set about searching for Angela's tent.

At last she spotted a colourful looking tent that could only belong to one person. She lifted the flap and looked around in amazement. There were boxes and containers of potions, herbs and books that Arya never would have touched in her life. She was surprised Angela could even be bothered to bring so many. Meanwhile, Angela herself emerged from a dark corner and she smiled widely.

"Good. You're here. Although I'm sorry to have brought you here when you so obviously do not wish to be, I believe I may be of some help," said Angela, oblivious to Arya's frown.

When Arya did not answer, she continued. "Well, anyway, sit down and make yourself comfortable. Oh, and mind the frogstools, don't knock them over."

Arya stared at her, perplexed. "Frogstools?"

"Yes, frogstools. You see, I conducted a research some months ago and I discovered that toads were actually frogs, and since toads did not exist, frogs replaced them and everything to do with toads. Isn't it fascinating?" Angela asked excitedly while pouring tea into cups.

_She's mad,_ Arya thought. "Yes… very."

"Good, good. Now, if I'm not mistaken, you seem to be brooding a great deal on your past. Solembum once told me of a young elf called _Faolin_, a man you seem close to. Is that correct?"

Arya did not answer but gripped the edge of her chair until her knuckles turned white.

"I thought so," said Angela, sipping her tea. "That would explain your actions toward people. And one in particular."

"What are you saying, human?" asked Arya dangerously.

Angela paid no attention to the elf's tone and merely continued speaking calmly. "I know it is not my place to say this but: you must let go of the past. Did you know… that I first met Eragon in Teirm?"

"What does any of this have to do with my past?"

"Everything of course. But hush, let me finish before you further forestall me. He was a poor farmboy then, a tired boy seeking for vengeance. A serious boy he was, seeing things beyond what his age could comprehend. I saw it in his eyes. In many ways, he is far older than he really is. I have rarely seen men with his kind of personality before. Anyhow, I saw him speaking with Solembum and I knew he was special. Solembum hardly ever talked with anybody other than a few people of which I shall not name. So I decided to predict Eragon's future for him, seeing as Solembum talked to him."

Arya sat quietly, staring intently at Angela. She was trying not to show it but Arya was clearly interested.

Smiling inwardly, Angela continued. "Then, of course I received a surprise. His future was the most difficult life I had ever tried to interpret. I cannot give you the details without his permission but I shall tell you this: if anyone deserves a happy life… it is he. He will live the hardest life that anyone can ever dream of. Maybe I am foolish to speak of this or perhaps I am too simple minded but I think that he needs better care, love, sympathy and comfort during these times. Am I wrong in thinking that maybe you are being too harsh… or are you just… afraid?"

Arya swallowed a hard lump in her throat. "Afraid? Of what?"

"Why, afraid to face the truth. I would have thought it was obvious by now. Don't think that I have been ignorant. You have suffered many ordeals, Arya Svit-Kona." Arya started at the term. "Many. I will not deny it. However, you must, I will say this again: you must let go of your past. Isn't that what this is all about? The past? Your reluctance to let go of the memories you cherish with Faolin? Over seventy years of pain of an equally painful relationship? Your-"

"Enough human! You think you can bring me here with your words? Your probing strategies so you may drain whatever strength remains within me? I have endured more than you can imagine. What would you know? You who have suffered no more than dying men on the battlefield!" said Arya coldly.

There hung a deadly silence between them. Then at last Angela spoke. "I see. Your grief blinds you to the truth."

Arya's emerald eyes narrowed into catlike slits, a distinctive sign that told that she was close to a furious rage. She stood up and whirled around to leave, then halted at sound of Angela's voice.

"You play a big role in the history of Alagaesia Arya Svit- Kona. Do not tarnish your name… Eragon's success also depends on you."

Finally, it was with great difficulty that Arya, next heir in line to the throne of Ellesmera stormed out of Angela's tent and the conversation, attempting to escape from the torrent of memories from the past. But most importantly, the heavy truth of Angela's words.


	6. Doom upon the Evil

Doom upon the Evil

The Ra'zac's pupiless eyes bore into Eragon's, enjoying every moment of their success. Their barbed tongues thrashed menacingly under their long hooked beaks, seeming to beckon him forward. Pure hatred coursed through Eragon's blood as he faced his uncle's murderers.

"Filthy desecrators! I'll have you pay for my father's murder!" spat Roran.

"Careful Roran, do _not_ attack without taking advantage," warned Eragon, afraid that his cousin would attack without warning.

"I know," hissed Roran.

Eragon scolded himself for thinking of Roran so lowly. After all, everyone had changed- even Roran.

He nodded.

_Are you ready Saphira?_

_I'm ready when you are Eragon._

"Fine then. Close in," he commanded.

Neither Saphira nor Roran replied, though Roran's face was contorted with unspeakable rage and Saphira looked ready to melt them in one blast of firey breath.

Eragon began to circle the Ra'zac and stabbed his sword at one Ra'zac. It hissed irritatedly and tried to swat his sword aside but failed. Eragon barely had time to block a particularly vicious swipe from the Ra'zac's sword that drove him to his knees from the strength. A small dagger whistled past just a hair's breadth from his cheek.

Eragon cursed. _Blast it all! If I could just use magic! Then this wouldn't be so difficult! _

He glanced around to see how his companions fared and grimaced. Roran was hammering away at the Ra'zac while Saphira tried to blast it with fire to corner it back. Despite their efforts, the Ra'zac was still evading their attacks smoothly.

_All right then, I'll have to find an alternative way to fight them. Let's see, Oromis said that they feared light and deep waters. Maybe… _

Eragon cast around for something to help him. The Ra'zac clucked its deformed tongue and blocked Eragon's view with inhuman speed. Another blur of steel forced Eragon to twist sideways and pause, giving an opening for the deadly creature. It cackled cruelly and held the sword high above its head ready to bring it down. Although Eragon was tiring, he still had his elfish abilities yet and he wasn't going to make ill use of it. He snarled and drove the pommel of his sword into the thin stomach of the Ra'zac. It howled and hissed painfully as Eragon then switched to the blade and inserted the blood thirsty sword through the torso. It's sibling screeched as the Ra'zac gave one last crackling rasp and crumpled to the floor. Eragon himself dropped to the ground, exhausted and drained of energy. To his surprise, he felt a warm feeling seep back into his body, like the sun peeping out from the clouds on a rainy day. Eragon knew then that his magic had returned. His satisfaction was short-lived however, when a flying form was thrown past him against the wall. Eragon swore when he realised it was Roran.

He dragged himself off the ground and reached for his sword embedded in the flesh of the fallen Ra'zac, when the room plunged into darkness as the remaining Ra'zac quenched the candlelights in a desperate resort to escape. Eragon heard Saphira growl in frustration and fumbled around blindly for his sword. His hand brushed against a metallic, wire wrapped handle and gripped it.

"Oof, Roran?"

Eragon heard shuffling as Roran stood up in the dark and let out a sigh of relief. They were safe… for now.

"Saphira?"

_I'm here little one._

_Are you all right?_ said Eragon, switching to mental communication.

_Yes. _

_Good. Because we _have_ to go after him!_

_Eragon-_

"Come on Roran! We have to go after him!"

"What about your magic? We can't see in this state. And most importantly, what about Katrina?" reasoned Roran.

"If the Ra'zac is still on the loose, Katrina will still be in danger. As for my magic- it has been restored. If I'm not mistaken, the suppression of magical activity was somehow connected with both the Ra'zac. Now, come! Brisingr!" Eragon cried and his sword flared up with a firey glow.

_That's better. I see the tunnel._

_Aye, let's go Saphira._

The three rushed through the tunnel, searching for a glimpse of the fleeing Ra'zac.

_Urgal's blood! We'll never get him in time!_

_Patience Eragon, _though Saphira's voice was strained, _remember Master Oromis' lesson._

Eragon grunted, unconvinced.

The dimly lit tunnel was filled with the sound of panting and padding of footsteps as Eragon, Roran and Saphira struggled to hurry without trampling one another.

"This isn't helping. One of us has to go ahead," Eragon said, gritting his teeth as one of Saphira's scales grazed his side.

"Aye, you go ahead Eragon. If the bastard tries to run, your magic is the only thing that can stop him," Roran said in agreement.

Eragon nodded silently and put on a burst of speed and rushed through the tunnel, his legs taking clean steps as the tunnel wall became a blur.

Then… at last, the limping figure of the Ra'zac came into view and Eragon drew his sword neatly, sliding it out of his sheath in a smooth move. The Ra'zac's head snapped around and hissed in annoyance. It drew its own sword- bloodied by countless victims- and waited for Eragon to reach him. When he did, the Ra'zac unexpectedly breathed out a fume that threatened to consume him. Eragon stopped abruptly, knowing that it was not a good sign.

"Skolir nosu!" he said, trying to shield him, Roran and Saphira from the gas.

Eragon advanced on the Ra'zac, sweat dripping from his hand as he clasped the sword handle. This was his chance to avenge Garrow… and he wasn't going to let it go. With a fierce battle cry he lunged at the Ra'zac, sword flashing and parrying relentlessly. The Ra'zac put up a fair fight, swiftly avoiding his slashes and jarring Eragon's jaw once. But in the end, the Ra'zac was no match for Eragon's enhanced prowess. The duel also awakened something in Eragon that had never revealed itself before. A powerful hatred rose up inside him far beyond reason and control. His heart pumped faster, his grasp on his sword grew tenser and the muscles on his arms became taut and there, reflected in his eyes was the fire of hell. Eragon swatted the Ra'zac's sword aside contemptuously and roughly placed a foot on the murderer's crooked chest.

"This is for my uncle," said Eragon simply brought the sword down. And so it was that the Ra'zac's life was ended by the burning sword of Eragon Shadeslayer.

As Eragon stood there motionless and staring down at the corpse, Roran and Saphira arrived, exhausted from running through the narrow tunnel. The two stopped suddenly when they spotted Eragon and was met by the shocking scene. It was not so much the Ra'zac's crumpled form that unnerved them but rather, the disturbing expression which was displayed upon Eragon's face. Traces of forbidden power was etched along the line under his smoldering cold eyes up to the point of madness and his mouth was cocked sideways up in a cruel smile… then, suddenly the frightening mask was gone, replaced by the tired elfish face of the last Rider.

"Roran, Saphira," he said, smiling sadly. Roran noticed that it was rather forced.

"Well, I see you've killed the monster before I could have my share," he noted with some disappointment.

"Aye. Sorry about that… do you…?" Eragon gestured towards the Ra'zac's body.

Roran knew he meant for him to do the honour of striking the last blow. He nodded. Eragon moved to one side as Roran gripped his hammer tightly. He knelt down and whispered before he performed the death blow.

"You sought to harden my anger and succeeded. You murdered my father and thought you could get away with it. May this be a lesson to you for the rest of your devilish life in the void."

The hammer struck.

Eragon saw the look on his cousin's face before the hammer was brought down. He sighed. It was finally over. The wild goose chase that had resulted in Garrow and Brom's death, Arya's rescue and finally the Ra'zac's doom was done. When Roran did not move, Eragon approached him.

"Roran, it's time to look for Katrina now," Eragon said.

Roran's eyes softened. "Let's go then."

Without waiting for an answer, Roran sprinted off through the tunnel to search for his love.

Eragon ran a hand through his hair, too exhausted to speak.

_Well, it is over then. The Ra'zac are eradicated and Roran will soon be reunited with his fiance Katrina. And we have avenged your uncle Garrow, _Saphira said gently.

_Aye, the only worry we have left is Galbatorix and Murtagh,_ thinking of Murtagh brought back the excruciating memories of his last encounter.

_Rest assured Eragon. Galbatorix shall be dethroned and you and I shall defeat Murtagh once we complete our training with Oromis-Elda. _

_Yes, but will it be enough? You saw how he performed those spells so effortlessly, _said Eragon resignedly.

_To that I have no answer, but we must have hope. Remember that little one._

Eragon shrugged helplessly and started at a small sound of movement and turned. A dozen or so heads peeped out from behind the crevices in the rocky wall. Eragon breathed out a sigh of relief, half reflecting his amusement.

_Of course! I'd forgotten about the slaves in all the action!_

Eragon heard Saphira's own laugh through their communication link.

_I fear we have much to do._

Her rider's laugh resonated and rebounded off the black walls of Helgrind and out towards the sun.


	7. Disruption in DrasLeona

Disruption in Dras-Leona

It was evening and the great ball of fiery inferno known as the sun sunk back down to the Earth and await the next morn, its flailing flames licking the air like dogs snapping at retreating animals. The passing of the king of stars was also to be acknowledged by the sky. The vast amount of space above retained its blue colour, yet blended in with a desert like colour, brightened by a luminous blush of pink and dashed with a creamy white tint that opened the heavens. Eragon looked upon this scene with great clarity and wonder from the oval opening of Helgrind the black rock, which was once the Ra'zac's lair. Meanwhile, the grimy slaves that he, Saphira and his cousin Roran had liberated was rummaging through Eragon's food, their hunger overtaking their thoughts. However, Eragon paid no heed to this and merely gazed at the tranquillity of nature with his dragon Saphira by his side, her scales glistening like uncut sapphires in whatever sunlight she was bathed with.

_Nature is truly wonderful, to capture this with such intensity, _Saphira said.

_Aye, _Eragon breathed. _It is truly wondrous. _

_However, we must remember that it shall not always stay like this._

Eragon nodded. _I know. But we should enjoy it while it lasts._

Saphira ruffled his hair fondly with her breath. _Take heart Eragon. All will be well._

Eragon smiled in answer and patted her neck.

_You know, we should check on Roran._

_Let's do that then._

The two turned to go when Eragon remembered to tell the slaves where they were going. The dozen slaves nodded enthusiastically while chomping on their well earned food. Eragon shook his head in amusement and pity. Then they continued on through the tunnel. As the Ra'zac had told them in its disguise, Eragon turned left through the door, and turned the knob on the wall. The granite wall opened soundlessly to reveal Roran and Katrina embracing tightly, arms wrapped around each other like snakes. Eragon grinned.

_Well this is quite an improvement._

_Indeed it is. _

Eragon coughed. Roran and Katrina jumped apart to the sound of Eragon's voice. Roran's ears reddened and he smiled rather foolishly. As for Katrina, her eyes widened at Eragon's new appearance. And even more so when she beheld the majestic sapphire dragon that crouched at his side. She stepped forward in wonder.

"Eragon? What-? Whatever happened to you?" She looked him up and down in amazement.

So Eragon and Saphira told her of his adventures and doings, explaining how the blood oath celebration had altered not only his face but physical abilities as well. He also told her of his discovery of Saphira's egg and the reason behind Garrow's death. Katrina did not interrupt his recount but her mouth did twitch up in a half smile when he described Arya's rescue. Finally with Saphira's help he completed his story and Katrina clapped.

"Bravo! Amazing, so you have foiled Galbatorix's plan yet again!" she said, laughing.

Eragon smiled sadly and shook his head. "Aye, but we still have a mile to go. A new rider has emerged and Galbatorix is still as dangerous as ever. Nay, we may have achieved a lot, but we have far more left to reach. I owe it all to Saphira and the Varden though. And the elves as well."

"Then will you be returning to Ellesmera brother?" asked Roran quietly.

"Aye. 'Tis all Saphira and I can do," Eragon replied gravely.

_Our training must be completed before we truly understand the depth of our situation, _Saphira added.

Roran nodded. "Then Katrina and I shall be returning to the Varden."

Eragon grinned. "You've earned it. All right, we will drop you off at the campsite but first we have a problem at the moment: what about the slaves?"

"What about them?" Roran asked in puzzlement.

"They need to get down but the only way is on Saphira," Eragon said.

"Well then, do that," Katrina said, one eye cocked up.

_A dozen slaves? What's wrong with that? _Asked Saphira, eying Eragon with a clear blue eye.

"Well I… nothing."

_It doesn't involve anything to do with Arya does it?_

_What? No! How could you think that? _Eragon snapped at her indignantly.

_If you say so._

Although Eragon was fuming inside, he let it pass. He forced himself to turn to the couple standing beside him.

"All right then, you'll have to wait a while since Saphira is taking the slaves down by two."

Roran and Katrina agreed and it took fifteen more minutes before the free slaves were taken down.

The slaves went back to city of Dras Leona to rebuild their lives and Eragon hoisted himself up onto Saphira. By then, Saphira had grown bigger in size and could now fit Roran, Eragon and Katrina.

"Let's go Saphira-"

"Wait, don't we need more food for the journey? The slaves ate all of ours," Roran said ruefully.

"Well then, we'll need to buy some don't we?" Katrina said, brushing past them.

Roran shook his head helplessly. Eragon shrugged and the four descended on Saphira to the gates of Dras-Leona. Since they could not expose themselves, Eragon kept his hood on and Roran did his best to mess up his beard, for both were wanted men and greedy lords would do anything to turn them in, while Saphira hid in the bushes. As expected, the town was still pitiful, poverty covering every corner of the streets and beggars wailed for money. Eragon looked away painfully. To think that it would come to this. All was well until an angry shout was heard from the town square. The three turned to ignore this commotion but stopped when they heard the man utter a word.

"… So what?! I have half a mind to drive you through with my pike mister! It's just as well! Who will you have next? My wife? My son?" The sound of spitting rang out clearly. "You'll see! You'll all see! You're all the same! The same treacherous dogs and cowards, hiding behind the rule of their equally treacherous king! Why, if the new Rider was here he would tear you apart like the snakes you are!"

Eragon's blood went cold. Already, the story of him and Saphira was spreading so fast, and already… people dared to mention his existence to the authorities. Swallowing, he, Roran and Katrina peered around the corner to see what the matter was.

A bulky man stood a little distance apart from a crowd of commoners. Up on the stand was a cold, hard-looking guard with lesser guards flanking him. His black eyes narrowed to slits as he studied the man who dared stand up to him. When the man finally fell silent, the guard drew his sword and pointed it at the rebel. The rebel did not flinch.

"What was your name again commoner?" the guard said maliciously, his words hissing like a coiled snake.

"And what would you do with it?" the rebel snorted.

"I said… what was your name," the guard asked dangerously, his sword tip now touching the rebel's neck.

The rebel scowled. "All right then if it _pleases_ you, I am called Normad. Filthy king's bastard."

"How dare you! The King is a mighty leader and it is only because of him you are able to live," the guard hissed.

"If you can call this livin'!" the rebel sneered.

The guard's calloused eyes grew harder and he flicked his sword into the rebel's neck.

The rebel let out a cut scream and slumped down to the ground.

The crowd screamed in horror.

Eragon heard no more as he tore his eyes away from the sickening scene. His hands balled into fists, nails digging into his flesh. Eragon strode away angrily from the town square and Roran and Katrina followed suit, concerned.

Since there were no guards when they arrived at the gates, the trio was able to pass safely and easily through it and out.

_Saphira, we're leaving, _Eragon called to her.

_Did you buy what you needed?_

_Aye._

He could feel Saphira's hurt as she contemplated on his brusqueness.

Roran and Katrina did not question him but merely sat themselves on Saphira's saddle to leave the gloomy city of poverty.

But the worst was yet to come.


	8. Memories of the Past

_Sorry for the wait but I was busy. Anyway, I know it kind of drags on for a bit but bear with me if you please! Oh, and I assure you, the words that I use for spells (the ancient language) are 100 true, meaning that they are not made-up._

Memories of the Past

_A lone figure crouched on a marble floor, shoulders heaving in sorrow. Eragon drew closer and saw that the man was holding someone in his arms. He could not see their faces but knew that that someone in the man's arms was female. The floor surrounding the grief stricken man was tainted by the dark pools of blood. A horn sounded nearby and the sound of cheering reached the chamber but the man paid no attention, oblivious to the outside world… the man turned, suddenly aware of a stranger's presence. Eragon shivered and the hairs on his neck erected up like needles. The glowing red eyes of a fevered dragon glared back at him…_

Eragon bolted upright, drenched in a cold sweat. He clutched at his chest where a maddening pain had targeted. _Another premonition, _he thought. Then Eragon shook himself. Arya was right, he could not think on these scenes too much. Knowing he could not go back to sleep again, he waited for the break of dawn, breathing in the night air. He waited and waited but the day seemed not to go any faster. Finally, disgruntled, Eragon forced himself to stand up and take a morning stroll. Careful not to wake any of the others, he set off into the woods to calm himself.

_I wonder who that man was, _Eragon thought. He shuddered as the image of the man's gleaming ruby eyes pierced through his brain again. _Perhaps he was maddened by grief. _

Then he brushed the thought away as a hunter does with a pestering fly and continued to walk randomly, not caring where he went.

Saphira, however was not fooled by his silence.

_Eragon, is something troubling you?_

_Saphira? You're awake… why are you awake now? Dawn has not even descended on us!_ Eragon answered incredulously.

_Your absence is as clear to me as the winking stars Eragon, _Saphira snorted in reply. _Do not forget, you and I are connected with a bond as strong as truth._

_Ah, I had forgotten, _Eragon said sheepishly.

Saphira sighed through their mental communication line. _But enough of that, what ails you?_

Reluctantly, Eragon told her of his premonition and the horrendous happening at Dras- Leona, explaining his distress and he had intended her no harm.

_I'm sorry if I had been unreasonable to you earlier on but I could not help it._

_It's all right little one. One makes mistakes. And another makes more, for I too should not have let you into that city. It does not bode well for you nor me._

Eragon did not reply but Saphira accepted his silence as an apology.

_Well, whatever our problems, we must move on. Nasuada and the others will be waiting anxiously for our return and we cannot procrastinate. I'm coming back to the camp Saphira… wake the others. We leave now._

_Of course._

It was noon and the sun was at its highest, studying all with its unbearable light. Eragon's hair whipped back and forth, bounced around by the speeding wind. On Saphira, all was but a blur. Eragon smiled, enjoying the rushing wind on his face and the fast pace at which they were travelling at, rejuvenating his low spirits. Roran and Katrina was talking behind him but Eragon could not hear their words, though he suspected that it was filled with mirth and love. Finally, after a few leagues of endless rows of green trees, they spotted a smudge on the flat surface of the Burning Plains. An acrid smell whooshed up to meet them and Eragon pinched his nose, grimacing at the stench. At another considerably more pleasant corner, lay their campsite. He grinned as the dotted figures of thousands of soldiers and elves loomed up to them. Many waved their arms energetically and gathered to greet them. They cheered as they caught sight of Katrina, her copper hair streaming behind her back. Saphira gracefully landed despite her weight and Eragon leaped off her, sighting Nasuada striding towards him.

He bowed. "M' lady," Eragon said looking up. "Our mission has been successful."

"So it seems," Nasuada said approvingly. "It is good that you have arrived safely. We were beginning to worry about you." Her expression was stern but her voice betrayed her sisterly relief.

"Aye. I'm sorry about that. But I guess nothing can be done about our communication. Although… did not Arya scry us for you?"

"Oh Arya? Nay. I'm afraid she has already returned to Ellesmera since she has obtained all the information she required," said Nasuada shaking her head. "Although it would have been nice of her to stay a while longer. I enjoyed her company."

Eragon felt a pang of disappointment. He had hoped to see her, to ease the pain which was now wedged in his heart. He would have to meet her back in Ellesmera. Then he grew angry. Why could he not lead a normal life? It was training this, training that. Alagaesia's fate, his fate, Saphira, destiny… it was all too much for a simple, lowly farmboy from Carvahall. Even his fate tied with Arya seemed despisable. Why was it so complicated?

"… Eragon? Eragon? Are you ill?" came an echo of Nasuada's concerned voice.

Eragon snapped out of his trance and came to reality. "Nay, nay. I'm fine. I just… I must prepare to return to Ellesmera with Saphira. Will you be all right here? I mean, I know King Orrin will take care of you and the Varden but he is hardly the most powerful king in Alagaesia."

Nasuada sighed exasperatedly. "Eragon, none of us are. You just concentrate on your own task and as for Orrin…" she sighed a heavier sigh. "But enough of this, if your training is the only option we have then you must take it. Go and pack your things then. Off you go!"

She shooed him away and Eragon packed his things and made ready to bid his friends farewell when he bumped into Angela the herbalist.

"Angela!" he said, glad to see her.

"Oof! Well, if it isn't the all powerful Eragon Shadeslayer who laid a curse upon an innocent babe instead of a blessing which it was intended to be," Angela teased.

"Come now Angela, you know I didn't mean to," Eragon smiled but felt guilt stab at his conscience.

"Hmph. Well, if you're truly sorry, I suggest you try to lift the curse off of her_ right now_."

"Aye."

Several moments later, Eragon was once again standing before the child Elva in Angela's pavilion.

"Are you certain you wish to do this?" he asked her hesitantly.

"As sure as the sun," Elva answered with confidence.

Eragon sighed and crouched down in front of her, one knee placed on the floor. He laid a hand gently on her small head and she closed her eyes. Eragon too closed his eyes and felt the flow of magic circulate through his body.

_Saphira I need your help for this, _he said to Saphira as he felt the strain of magic begin to take its toll.

_Of course little one, my strength is yours._

"Losna malthinae iet vel femire." _Release my bind on her._

At the same time, the full blast of the magic drilled into Eragon and he gasped with the impact. The energy it took too achieve the feat was more than demanding and it preyed upon his weakness, probing his every vulnerability. His head swam dizzily with the blow and he grimaced in pain. On the other hand, Elva was slowly opening her eyes as if awakening from a bad dream. Her eyes widened as she felt the heavy burden and urge to rush to someone's need fade away as cleanly as it had come to her. Finally, unable to prolong the effects of the magic further, Eragon stopped and fell back, panting with exertion.

_Eragon! Are you all right?_ Saphira cried, alarmed.

_Aye… it was… harder than I thought, _he managed to gasp.

While Saphira was tending to Eragon, Angela had been staring at Elva with surprise.

"Elva, my dear… have you been healed? Did it work?"

Elva stared up at her. "I feel… better. I feel better than ever before…" she breathed and her voice trailed off as she looked back down at her hands. "The tension of my burden is gone now," she whispered, tears welling up in her soft eyes which were once disconcerting. However, one thing remained: the gedwey ignasia that Saphira had created on her forehead.

Angela pulled the young girl into a hug and Elva, once out of Angela's embrace, approached the drained Rider and knelt down.

"Thank you, Argetlam. I am sorry if I have ever hated you or thought ill of you for I was full of anger and misery. But you have spared me from that and I am grateful… even if you were the one to place that accursed spell upon me," she said to Eragon, and looked up at him sheepishly.

Eragon started at the gedwey ignasia still on her forehead but recovered and smiled. He shook his head. "Nay, child. 'Twas my fault to begin with and my fault to atone for."

Elva bowed her head and exited the tent to enjoy her moments of peace.

_Finally she is healed._

_Yes, she is… though I wonder why her gedwey ignasia still remains. _

_Perhaps it is too strong for it to be removed. _

Eragon pondered on this for a while and then replied, _Whatever the reason, I hope it will give her luck and happiness._

_Aye._

Then Angela spoke up. "Well, I won't ask about what you and Saphira were talking about but know this; you have just saved that poor girl from a lifetime of madness. For her sake, I am thankful. You chose a good path Eragon. One that shall help you in your further years in training."

"If I live that long," Eragon remarked with dry humour.

Angela's mouth twitched. "Aye. But enough of this gloomy talk! I've heard that you're returning to Ellesmera to complete your training with the elves. Is that correct?"

"Aye," Eragon sighed, thinking of his hopeless relationship with Arya.

Angela noticed his sudden change of emotions but did not comment on it. Instead, she said, "I've heard tell that you and Arya are quite close if I'm not mistaken. Very close friends than you often let on."

Eragon's head snapped up in defence. "Aye, what of it?"

"Oh, nothing important. Just that I know quite a bit about her past and I really didn't think she'd befriend you."

"These are hard times," Eragon said, looking away, not liking where this conversation was leading him to.

"Aye, that it is," Angela paused, wracking her brain for a wise way to continue their talk. "Should I tell you of her story?"

"I thought it was only to be told when Arya permits it," Eragon said, frowning.

"Oh her. It's nothing… anyway, I do have her permission… of a sort," Angela said sipping the tea she had made a few moments ago.

"Of a sort?" Eragon asked with a raised eyebrow.

_Ask her where she gained the information from, _Saphira instructed.

Eragon voiced this aloud to Angela and Angela grinned wickedly.

"I have my sources," she said mischievously.

_Forget it, she won't tell us, _Eragon told Saphira resignedly.

"All right. Tell us then," Eragon answered wearily to Angela.

Angela smiled. "Well then… it all started about seventy years ago- I can't really remember since it was so long ago- but apparently, Arya was starting her training as an apprentice to an elf general…"

"Alazais," Eragon muttered, recalling his meeting with the elven general before.

"Anyway, Arya met a young male elf among many other elves during her training years. And of course, they fell in love. Also, what with all the wars with the Forsworn and Galbatorix, their relationship was bound to get tighter. However, the fact that they were mating did not reach Arya's mother and when she did learn of their love, she was beside herself with rage. It was a year after Arya had completed her training and had become a full-fledged swordswoman. Her mother opposed their will with every ounce of her will and forbid her to ever meet with him again. Arya, of course, was dismayed. Now, I don't know the details but Arya attempted to persuade her mother into allowing her to have the join the hunt for the dragon eggs. The Varden was involved and Arya was eager, not only because it meant having the chance to meet Faolin again but because Arya had led a very sheltered life."

"A sheltered life? But then how can she live among us so easily?" Eragon asked, curious.

"Ah, now _that_ is a mystery. Some say that because she was the only child, her mother treated her like an infant, always dogging her and never left her alone. Mayhap it is true, and perhaps it isn't. I know naught. But what I _do_ know is that she suffered many things- some beyond family matters. You must understand Eragon, she has lost the love of her life, has been ignored and shunned by her family for taking the yawe and has endured more sufferings than many can ever hope to see."

Angela retreated back into the comfort of silence, drinking her tea, her eyes far away.

Meanwhile, Eragon mulled over what Angela had said. Again he felt so distant from Arya whom he thought he knew so much about that it rendered him mute.

He remembered Oromis' words: "Those whom we love are often the most alien to us."

Eragon smiled sadly. Aye, he was right. He stood up.

"Well, thank you for telling me this. I'm afraid I must be going now," Eragon said to Angela.

She too stood up and smiled. "You are quite welcome. But don't tell anyone I told you this story… they may not like it."

Eragon nodded, for he was expecting that particular reply.

_Let us leave Eragon._

_All right._

"Goodbye then… for now," said Eragon.

"Yes, farewell Eragon, I bid you a safe trip."

Eragon nodded again and made to step out of the pavilion when he heard Angela's voice again.

"Oh, and Eragon… all is not lost."


	9. New Discovery

Return to Ellesmera

_Sorry people… I know it's been a looooong time since I updated but I was really busy. Exams, exams, exams. I wonder when it will stop. _

New Discovery

"Oh, and Eragon… all is not lost."

In Eragon's mind, Angela's words replayed again and again even after he and Saphira had left the herbalist's tent. It was not much, and he knew it, but somehow, the words strangely calmed his mind and gave him reassurance that others could not give. He sighed through slightly parted lips and Saphira gave him a sidelong look, her sapphire eyes glinting in the sunlight. Eragon caught her look and smiled.

_Do not look at me like that Saphira. _

_Why, because everytime I catch you off guard?_ Saphira snorted.

_Well… that and the fact that I would like some privacy concerning my thoughts._

_Hmph. Well, at least I know you're not in your own little world daydreaming about a certain princess, _Saphira retorted without mercy.

Eragon opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Instead he shook his head and headed for their pavilion. For all Saphira's show of cynical behaviour, he knew she felt the change in his mood and was only trying to lighten the atmosphere. He opened the flap to his tent and immediately sat on the edge of his bed, recollecting his thoughts. During his quiet meditation, Eragon felt Saphira's rather calm emotions flow through their mental link. He felt her confusion, her worries, and impatience. Eragon looked up.

"We should start flying."

Saphira's tensed muscles relaxed and she allowed herself to show annoyance.

_Finally._

Eragon smiled and gathered up all their equipment, save for their tent which was the property of the Varden. He knew he was still filthy from their previous episode with the Ra'zac and washed his face with cool water before exiting the tent. With minds set for another long journey, Eragon and his dragon found Nasuada and Orik in a grave discussion amongst the crowd.

Smiling sadly, Eragon approached them, with Saphira sharing his emotions.

"Lady Nasuada. Orik. We have just come to bid you farewell as it may be a long while before we meet again like this. I must complete my training in Ellesmera and cannot fulfill my duties here. So…" Eragon nearly choked as Orik unexpectedly slapped him on the back.

"Good man Eragon. I hope you complete your training without too much difficulties and I wish you all the blessing a dwarf can give. May Guntera guide you in your travels," said Orik, smiling. But judging by the red rim under his eyes and the more than usual trembling in his voice, Eragon knew Orik was still distraught by Hrothgar's death. A sadness and overwhelming compassion for his dwarven friend flooded his heart and he smiled at Orik, laying a hand on the dwarf's shoulder.

"Thank you," he said softly. "Just remember not to drink too much ale, my friend."

Orik chuckled half-heartedly.

Then Eragon turned to Nasuada, who regarded him with a peculiar look. She nodded and smiled.

"You have grown Eragon."

Eragon shrugged. "I just hope it is enough to face Galbatorix and put up a reasonable fight."

"You will, Eragon, you will. However, I believe it is truly time for you to go. For your sake, I wish you a safe trip and a satisfying time of learning," Nasuada said fondly.

"Thank you m'lady."

"Well then, goodbye to you both. Eragon and Saphira."

In answer, Saphira bowed her scaly head in gratitude and respect.

_Yes. Farewell Lady Nasuada._

Nasuada smiled and watched with Orik as Eragon mounted Saphira.

The army gathered to watch as well with the elves, cheering Rider and dragon. Just as Saphira was about to take off, the crowd parted to reveal General Alazais who reached out a hand up to Eragon.

Eragon was surprised but nevertheless, took Alazais' hand and shook it heartily.

Alazais then smiled, his silver hair waving in the breeze.

"Even in the short time we conversed my young rider, you have earned my friendship. I only wish we had more time to truly bond as friends. Meanwhile, Atra esterni ono thelduin un du evarinya ono varda iet fricai." Alazais touched his lips with two fingers and released his grip on Eragon's hand.

Eragon felt great warmth for this elf and gratitude for his offer of friendship. He gave a last salute to the elf and waved at the army, triggering a deafening roar. The soldiers beat at their shields and chests, whistling and cheering. Eragon and Saphira took to the sky. They did not look back.

In the heart of Ellesmera, Arya wrung her hands in annoyance. She had just received news that Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira would be arriving in approximately two days. When she had heard this, she had felt an enormous feeling of relief. Eragon had eventually come out alive and was returning to complete his training with Oromis and Glaedr. Nothing more. Then why was she feeling so nervous? Since Eragon's confession and her rejection, their relationship had become unbearably uncomfortable. Even she, Arya, who had expertise on keeping her emotions under control, found she sometimes had trouble doing so around Eragon. It was so _awkward_. She scowled. If it wasn't for his youthful infatuation for her… or was it? Arya quickly stamped out that thought, suddenly frightened of the several possibilities that were already swirling around in her mind. Then a hard solid knock on her door brought her back to reality. Breathing rather heavily, Arya strode over to open the door, which revealed her cousin Niduen. Instantly Arya's form became stiff.

As usual, Niduen eyed her with caution.

"May I come in Arya?"

Arya made no answer but kept her face impassive and sat herself down on her chair. Niduen took this as an invitation to enter and closed the oak door shut behind her. Then she sat herself down on the chair opposite to Arya. For some time she studied Arya's face with an unreadable emotion. When she saw that Arya did not ask what the matter was, Niduen sighed and decided to start the talk.

"Arya."

The air was stiff with cold silence.

"Arya… I came to see if you were well. I know… that we are not the closest of family but… I am concerned for you. You have hardly eaten for days now and barely even talk to anyone. What is the matter?"

Arya stared at her. She knew Niduen was becoming impatient but inside, Arya felt a stab of irritation.

"What I do is of no concern to you," then she felt instant regret at those words. It was surprising even to herself how cold she was.

A flicker of hurt flashed across Niduen's calm face but it was gone in a second.

"Well, it is of concern to your mother, Islanzadi. She is deeply distressed by this news and I would advise you to start taking care of yourself. That is all."

With some dignity, Niduen stood up and turned to go. Arya felt a wave of guilt at this action and hastily made up her mind. It was not Niduen's fault, no matter how she irritated her.

"I am sorry," she said uncertainly, as if the words were foreign on her tongue. "I… I am troubled. That is all. It is nothing major so you may tell Islanzadi that she does not have to worry. Thank you for your concern but I do not need it at the moment."

"May I ask what the cause of it is?"

"I'm afraid not," Arya replied curtly.

"Very well."

Niduen turned to go but stopped halfway.

"You have grown too proud and cold my cousin. Your heart is not what it once was."

Arya's head snapped up to retort back, to protest and to shout back that Niduen knew nothing of her… but something in Niduen's words deterred her. It was the truth.

Eragon woke up to the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the canopies of the trees that surrounded the camp. He groaned and rubbed his head.

"Urgh…"

_Good morning, _came Saphira's amused voice.

_Not so good morning, _replied Eragon, still rubbing his temples.

_Why so?_

_I was so used to sleeping in a bed that it feels uncomfortable now to be back sleeping out on the hard forest floor. _

Saphira chuckled.

_Well you're just going to have to get used to it all over again._

Eragon grunted.

_Well, never mind that. We're still a day away from Ellesmera. Hellfire, and to think we've been travelling for five days already. _

Saphira chortled.

_What are _you_ complaining about? I have to do the flying you know._

To that, Eragon found he had no answer to.

_Let's go._

As always, Eragon felt the rush of exhilaration as underneath Saphira, the wide landscape of trees rushed past them. He felt the cool blast of the wind, the smell of a freshness only Mother Nature could give and the intimate feeling of a Rider with his dragon. Then suddenly, as he was surveying his surroundings, a flash of red caught his sharp eyes. His eyes widened. Surely not?

Below him, Saphira sensed his uneased and slowed, beating her wings against the wind.

_What is it?_

_I'm not sure but… I think it may be a soldier from the Empire. _

_What?!_

_I don't know! But I just saw something red, and it wasn't an animal. _

_Maybe you were mistaken, after all, we were going at quite a speed…_

_No, it was clear. I'm sure._

_But that's ridiculous. Why would a soldier in the service of Galbatorix be out here in the middle of nowhere?_

_I don't know Saphira… but I think we should take a look. It may be important._

Eragon felt her irritation but ignored it. There was something ominous and chary about the way the figure moved. Almost like he was being chased. As Saphira changed direction with an aerial maneuver, Eragon leaned forwards to get a better look at the red speck. As he had suspected, a red cape fluttered between the trees. Once they had gained on the soldier, Eragon could clearly see the person, red cape flying behind him, steel helm, uniform of the Empire and a bulging pouch at his side. This aroused Eragon's curiosity even more. Unfortunately, the soldier sensed them approaching and put on a bout of speed. Not that it mattered, but still, Eragon preferred it if they had caught him unawares.

_You were right Eragon! It was a soldier from the Empire!_

_Aye, and a soldier with a pouch of something valuable to boot. _

_What is it?_

_Let's find out._

It did not take long to capture the soldier and Saphira grasped him in her claws. He choked and gasped, trembling with terror.

"Mercy, Rider, mercy! Spare me my life!" he shrieked.

Eragon frowned. "Why should I? You are in the service of the tyrant Galbatorix who has destroyed the lives of many."

"B-because I-I have something…" the man faltered.

"What is it?" Eragon demanded.

"I…"

"Tell me and I shall spare your life."

The soldier's face crumpled up in indecision. After some time he handed the pouch over to Eragon. Cautiously, and not too eagerly, Eragon prodded the pouch, moving it from hand to hand. In the end, he opened it and accidentally bumped it with the pommel of his temporary sword. It produced a clean, unearthly tone. A sound so familiar that Eragon felt an idea dawning on him.

"It cannot be…" he murmured, his heart beating rapidly.

He lifted the flap of the pouch and to his amazement; an emerald dragon egg lay nestled between the soft leather of the pouch.


	10. Return to Ellesmera

Return to Ellesmera

Return to Ellesmera

Eragon stared at the soldier for a long time, the muscles of his jaw working up in ways that he would not normally be able to do. Never in his life had he become so dumbstruck like this. Everything seemed surreal, and he could only hear Saphira's voice as muffled tones. Then the full shock of the situation kicked him back to reality. He shook his head hurriedly and frowned. He swallowed and blinked.

"So…" Eragon said hoarsely, since he could barely speak from the shock. "Why exactly, rogue, do you have this… something this important in your hands? On what business did you enter this forest?"

Saphira eyed the soldier shrewdly with a single sapphire eye, waiting expectantly for the victim's answer.

The soldier's adam's apple rose and fell with a painful jolt. His knees trembled and he blinked so rapidly that Eragon could only see it as a blur of eyelashes.

"F-for reasons o-only for the e-ears of k-k-king G-Galbatorix…" the man swallowed deeply. "I-I cannot reveal m-my business to you…"

"Come now, that cannot be the reason. You are an escapee; Galbatorix… does not know of your deed, does he?" Eragon pressed him.

Saphira gave a low growl.

The soldier became flustered and his eyes were full of horror. "No! I cannot! He has-" The man suddenly choked and retched violently without warning. His eyes bulged out of their sockets and he flailed his arms about helplessly, groping his neck.

Eragon watched, horrified and alarmed. What was happening to the man?

"Soldier! Soldier! What-?" he started but was forestalled by the choking soldier.

"No, 'tis too late m'lord! He has… he has…"

"Who do you speak of man?"

"He, my king..."

"Galbatorix? Do you speak of Galbatorix?"

Once again the soldier's eyes rolled back, revealing the skull whiteness and the red veins that webbed across them.

"He has what? He has what?" Eragon asked desperately and with more than a little panic in his voice.

"He has-" The man stopped abruptly and his rasping voice was silenced. The soldier's head lolled onto his shoulders and Eragon flinched as he felt the soul and energy of life of the man vanish into the void. A trickle of blood seeped out from between his lips and down his chin. The man lay limp in Saphira's grip. He was gone.

For a moment only the sound of the travelling winds were heard and swish of the branches of trees. Then, Eragon turned to Saphira with blank eyes.

_Well… _

_This is certainly disturbing. But also good news…_

_Yes… _Eragon replied absentmindedly.

_It seems Galbatorix knew of his escape after all. __He was simply waiting to see what the soldier would do. _

_And he almost betrayed him._

_Aye. A terrible punishment for one so young._

Eragon did not answer, for he had a lump in his throat.

_Fortunately we obtained another dragon egg. It is truly unbelievable… I wonder what his true aim was_, Eragon said, looking down at the collapsed form of the soldier. Saphira nudged his shoulder gently with her snout.

_We must leave Eragon. Who knows? Galbatorix may be on the look out for us at this very moment._

Eragon nodded and leaped onto Saphira, his heart pumping fast even though he knew that Galbatorix was far away. Saphira launched herself into the air, her powerful wings opposing the force of the wind. Together with Eragon on her back, they sped towards Ellesmera.

Eragon's boots hardly made a sound on the soft forest floor of Du WeldenVarden. Birds sang from atop tree branches their sweet melodies that only elves could understand. The sunlight created an alien glow in which Eragon walked in. He felt at home. Saphira seemed to think so too and she let out a contented rumble. Eragon grinned at her and together they walked on, relishing the cool air and the warm, welcome feeling that indicated the elves' presence.

_It is good to be back… isn't it Saphira?_

Saphira turned her blue-glass eye towards him. _Yes, it certainly is little one. _

Eragon then remembered their previous discovery and looked down at the pouch at his side. He held a protective hand over it.

_Maybe we should hurry a little, Saphira. I feel a little worried._

_Mm. I do know what you mean Eragon._

Both quickened their pace and it was not long before Eragon spotted Gilderien the Wise in the distance. As usual, he was garbed in flowing robes with a circlet of silver upon his brow. At the last moment, Eragon remembered and held up his hand to display Brom's ring which still had the Yawe print upon it. Gilderien bowed and vanished. One by one the elves emerged, glossy hair flowing, eyes watching them intently and the women began to sing with joy. Eragon smiled slightly. To his surprise one even approached to give him a silver necklace of various flowers that had intricate patterns woven between them. He touched two fingers to his lips and the elf bowed. Once again he found himself climbing the steps to the assembly hall, breathing hard, though he did not know why. Eragon and Saphira reached the door embedded within a wall of saplings. It swung open to reveal the glory of Tialdari Hall, its numerous trees lined as walls with their branches melded together to form the ceiling. On twelve seats the elves sat as Eragon knew to be the council. Their noble faces wise and serene, all welcomed the two with smiles. Islanzadi, queen as she was, emanated an aura of authority, her hand on the arm of the throne and the other on the rod on which Blagden was perched. And there, there beside her, watching him with wise green eyes was Arya, her hand on the pommel of her slim sword to match her slim figure. Her graceful pose displayed the very nobility of her blood and to his surprise; a silver circlet adorned her brow. She had never displayed any signs of her heritage before, save for her tendency to be stoic. His heart began to pound with a passion that had never been revealed even to him before. It filled him with far more trepidation than Galbatorix had ever had. Immediately he struggled with his emotions, masking his face with the same blank expression the elves used so often. He knelt before the queen, his head bowed. And suddenly he realised that the queen did not know of his terrible secret. He bowed his head even more to hide the pained expression on his face.

"Rise, Eragon Shadeslayer. We have heard of your courage and prowess on the battlefield in the Burning Plains and how you rescued your cousin's fiancé by slaying the Ra'zac. We are truly indebted to you; the foul creatures have tainted the land for too long a time. You do not even need to greet us in the elven way. You and Saphira have both endured much hardship. For that I am sorry for. Atra esterni ono thelduin."

Eragon's eyes widened, for the queen was honouring them by speaking first. "Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr."

"Un du evarinya ono varda," she said completing the ritual.

Eragon stood, towering over the queen. "I am honoured, your majesty. And now I must do you the favour of completing my training. And then, perhaps will my chances of defeating Galbatorix be possible. The Agaeti Blodhren has certainly given me what I had needed the most. Saphira and I thank you for your warm welcome."

_Do not be afraid, Shadeslayer, I already know of your pain. Do not worry, your family does not always reflect who you are._

Eragon's head shot up surprised to hear Islanzadi speak to him telepathically.

Islanzadi nodded. "You and Saphira Brightscales are always welcome. But enough of this, come and we shall feast in your honour!" She clapped her slim hands together and the clear, sharp sound brought forth the hundreds of elves beyond the door. The hall was soon emptied and all were outside, preparing for the feast at an astonishing speed. Soon it was only he, Saphira and Arya who were left. Eragon and Arya stood facing each other and Saphira crouched rather uncomfortably. An awkward silence hung between the two friends and both stood staring at each other until it could no longer be ignored.

Eragon summoned up his courage. "Hello Arya."

"Hello Eragon."

There was a pause.

"I see you have survived the Ra'zac."

"Yes," he said. Then in a softer voice he added, "And you have underfed yourself I see."

Arya stiffened. "I was not well."

"Ah," Eragon replied though he knew this was not true. "Well, it is good to see you again."

There was no answer.

"I think we should join the feast now, they will be waiting for us."

However, as Saphira and Eragon turned to go, Arya called out, "Eragon."

It was so soft that he did not sure if he had heard it or not. He whirled around. She had merely called out his name, but inside Eragon felt his heart melt like butter. That single word contained an unknown meaning, something that made his inside tingle, his hands start to sweat and his elfish ears twitch.

"Eragon…" she said almost in anguish. Eragon stepped closer to her, alarmed. "I-"

"Shadeslayer!"

Eragon turned to see a cheerful Nari.

"The feast is about to begin, are you not going to join us?"

"Of course we will Nari. We will come now," replied Arya curtly before Eragon could open his mouth.

With an air of regal repose, Arya strode past them and out into the sunlight. Nari cocked an eyebrow and Eragon shrugged. Saphira nudged him and Eragon looked at her.

_What? _

_What do you think, stop staring like a love struck fool and get going!_

_I did _not _stare at her like a love struck fool!_

But Saphira would not have any of it. She stomped outside to join the feast.

Eragon shook his head. _Women._

All through the feast, Eragon remained thoughtful and troubled. He kept seeing Arya's face again and again in his mind when she called out his name in the hall before they joined the feast. Could it be that she really was ill? No, that wasn't right either. But whenever he glanced at her through the events, Arya's face was always the calm, relaxed face. Perhaps he had misread her emotions. Perhaps he was struggling with superfluous feelings. He felt Saphira's presence approaching.

_Enjoyed all of the elves' praises now have you? _Eragon teased.

Saphira snorted. _Of course not. Their praises are always new. I never get tired of hearing them._

It was Eragon's turn to snort.

_Speaking of which, haven't you had too much faelnir__v… though not as much that you would die. You look as if you're about to faint, little one. _

_No, no I'm fine._

_Are you sure? Arya keeps glancing at you. I think you look a bit drunk you know. _

Eragon glanced up and sure enough, Arya regarded him with a worried expression. He scowled and averted his eyes back to his plate.

_Perhaps we should return to our tree…_

Eragon cast around the gloom of the night and the bonfires where the elves were, dancing merrily around them. The very thought sent his mind spinning.

"Urgh…"

_All right, perhaps we should._

_Good._

_What about Islanzadi? We must tell her before we go…_

_I've taken care of that little one. We have her permission. _

Grunting slightly, Eragon stood up, swaying on his feet. The elves eyed him worriedly.

"Shadeslayer, are you all right?" an elf inquired cautiously.

"Aye. I'm fine," his voice came out rougher than he would have liked.

_Come Eragon. _

Eragon mounted her, barely holding on. Arya stared at him. Saphira took to the air and the elves and Arya were no more than dots on the ground.

After some time, Saphira landed on the tear drop gap on the wall and Eragon subconsciously slipped from the saddle and tottered towards his bed. Finally he collapsed onto it and he knew no more.


	11. Why do you Hide?

Why do you hide

Why do you hide?

The flash of lightning and the boom of thunder snapped Eragon out of his deep slumber. He groaned irritably, his head still ringing with the songs of the elves last night and the crackling of the bonfires. But what annoyed him to no end were the persistent rumbles of thunder and the streaks of lightning which dazzled him until he could see stars. Eragon rubbed his head gingerly. It was not a pleasant night. Hoping to drown out the noise, Eragon burrowed under his pillows, cursing the storm that rocked his tree. The wind howled and moaned, almost as if it was deliberately trying to anger him. Rain pounded on the ceiling, its fast beating rhythm serving only to draw an irate sigh from Eragon's lips.

"All right, all right," he growled to no one in particular.

Knowing he would not have the luxury of having a dreamless sleep, Eragon rolled out of his bed and staggered towards his closet. With the speed of a sloth, Eragon shrugged on a thick black tunic and turned to walk to the window.

_Eragon? _came Saphira's concerned voice.

_Saphira? _

_Who else? What's the matter, little one?_

_I couldn't sleep, _Eragon replied in a weary tone.

_You should, after what you did last night._

_Don't remind me, _he said, groaning inwardly.

Through their mental link, Eragon heard Saphira's chuckles of amusement.

_You certainly did have everyone's attention._

_Well… it was a mistake that I have no wish to repeat. _

_Of course. _

There was a noisy pause as the two stayed still, listening to nature's tantrums. It was during this silence that Eragon remembered the egg. He had originally planned to announce its discovery but he had changed his mind after meeting with the elves. He had no wish to give them false hope… if the rider turned out to be an elf, then they would truly be filled with joy… however, if it was human, the elves could possibly look upon the rider with disdain. Eragon knew he was only tolerated due to his deeds and altered self, but the new rider was a different matter.

_Saphira…_

_Mmm?_

_What should we do about the new dragon egg? Should I announce its discovery, or only show it to certain people? I fear its arrival will cause disappointment and contempt, rather than joy and support._

_You fear that it will result in a human rider_. It was more of a statement rather than an inquiry.

_Aye. _

_Then we must keep the knowledge of the egg within a certain limit. Let us go to Arya, she may provide us with the most suitable answer since it is her race we are concerned about._

_I agree._

Eragon turned away from the window, and picked out brown leggings with some soft boots from his wardrobe. He put on a hooded cloak and was about to stride out into the rain with Saphira when he passed his bed stand. He paused and slung the pouch that contained the green egg onto his shoulder.

It was some time after that they arrived at Tialdari Hall and with a pang of pain; Eragon remembered his last visit to Arya's room. Ignoring the bitter memories, Eragon carried on, knowing it was too late to go back now. The early morning elves roamed the corridors and the common room, eying the two with curiosity. They bowed occasionally, asking if he needed any assistance and Eragon declined their offers. Saphira followed behind, and Eragon winced as Saphira accidentally scratched the marble floor with her talon. Saphira hissed at the high pitched noise it made. Eragon shook his head and continued to walk past the rooms until he reached Arya's. As usual, his heart beat like mad, as if he was just about to seal his doom. A rush of frustration enveloped him and Eragon chastised himself for his uncontrollable feelings. It was time to let go of something he could never obtain. Keeping his feelings in check, Eragon knocked three times on the oak door. Silence. Puzzled, Eragon knocked again, letting the bones of his finger joints make clear solid sounds on the door. Still there was no answer. Now quite worried, Eragon knocked again a little urgently. From behind, Saphira gave a snort.

_You can stop knocking now._

Eragon shot her a look.

_Obviously she's not in there right now, otherwise she would have answered. _

_Well, how am I to know?_

_Common sense, which apparently the male people of your race are known to lack. _

_Saphira!_

_Anyway, _said Saphira, brushing off the protest as if it were a fly. _Elves are known to wake early aren't they?_

_What are you getting at Saphira?_

_We should find her outside. And I think I may know where to find her, or you could ask her with your mind._

_Wouldn't that be rude?_

_This is an urgent matter._

_Fair enough._

Eragon pulled his hood up and again stepped into the rain outside after navigating his way back to the entrance. Saphira followed suit and Eragon contacted Arya. Or rather, he tried to. As soon as Eragon reached out to her mind, a razor-sharp defence system drilled into his mind and he gritted his teeth with the effort of minimising its effects. He prodded and probed at her wall which was as compact as a steel wall. Finally, after a few minutes of attempting to breach the wall, Eragon relented and barely gasped out, _Arya!_

_Eragon? _came the incredulous reply.

_Aye, I know this may seem discourteous to you but I had good reason to do so. I had to find out where you are._

Instantly, Arya's rigid air relaxed and Eragon felt as if he was being plunged into lukewarm water.

_I apologise for my attacks._

_No matter… where are you? Saphira and I came to your room but you did not answer, _said Eragon searching around for her in the darkness of the night.

_I… needed some air. _

_You could not sleep either?_

_No._

_So where are you then?_

_Under the Menoa tree…_

_All right, we're coming._

He broke off their contact and glanced at Saphira.

_You heard that didn't you?_

_Yes. _

_Good._

Eragon drew his hood up even more, shivering in the cold wet rain.

It was not long before Eragon and Saphira found the Menoa tree and sure enough, a lone figure stood under it, staring far away into the distance. Eragon studied her from a distance, wondering what on earth had brought her out here in the storm without a cloak. They neared her and Arya turned, sensing their presence. Eragon swallowed, the lump in his throat becoming more prominent by the minute. It was hard to suppress the passion welling up inside him, hard to stop the soft gaze which he gave without thought, hard to deny himself the happiness which he longed so much. It was getting harder every time. He forced the lump down.

"Arya."

"Eragon, what brings you out here at the birth of dawn?"

_We have something of importance we need to discuss with you, _said Saphira, fixing Arya with a knowing eye.

"Would it be all right if we could talk with you right now?" Eragon asked cautiously, feeling uncomfortable about intruding on Arya's privacy.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Arya's lips. "Of course."

Eragon followed Arya as she sat herself down at the base of the Menoa tree where the thick roots spread out across the area, tangling with another. Saphira crouched down beside Eragon.

Arya faced Eragon, waiting expectantly and watching him with her wise green eyes. Eragon gulped. It was so hard to conceal his feelings when he looked into her face and stared into her eyes… the eyes that drew him in until he felt lost in her gaze. Arya cocked her head in question. Eragon berated himself inwardly.

"Well… first of all, I would ask you not to be shocked. I still have trouble believing it myself but…" not knowing how to continue, Eragon unslung the pouch and slowly drew its content out. As the egg caught the light of the moon, Eragon heard Arya give a silent gasp.

Arya stared at the oval shaped dragon's egg held delicately by Eragon's strong hands. Dark green veins spiderwebbed across its surface and it appeared to be pulsing due to an inner heart. She took the egg from Eragon's hand, their fingers brushing each other's for a split second. Its texture was unlike anything Arya had ever touched before, its surface was cool and soothing, a little rough but smooth all the same. Her heart beat faster and faster until she had trouble breathing. She kept her face impassive, devoid of any emotions, but inside her head cried out in joy.

_A dragon egg! The third dragon egg… at last, fate is beginning to favour us. _

Taking care not to damage it, Arya ran her hand over it, taking in every single detail, its ocean green colour, its surface texture and shape. Finally, after examining it closely, Arya looked up, her eyes shining with hope and unspeakable joy.

"Eragon, you know what this means for us, do you not?" she whispered.

"Aye. Too well."

"How did you come to obtain it? And why on earth did you not mention this to Islanzadi yesterday?"

Eragon stared at his hands and fidgeted nervously. "I was not sure that it was the best time. For one thing, there is the possibility that the rider may not be elf-kind. As for obtaining it…" his voice trailed off as he realised that Arya was no longer listening. Her face was fixated on the egg in her slender hands and her green eyes were far away in a memory that he could not be a part of. A lock of midnight black hair fell softly to her face. Unconsciously, without a thought, without any notion of the reaction that she could give, Eragon reached and touched it, tucking it back behind her tapered ear. As if receiving a shock, Arya's head jerked up in surprise and Eragon hastily withdrew his hand, his face burning. Back rigid and head held high, Arya stood up in one swift move.

"Arya, I-I cry your pardon! Believe me, it was not my intention-"

"Dawn is almost over and the morn approaches. I must go. You may tell me the rest of your story later if I have time available. Meanwhile, you must go to Islanzadi and inform her of your discovery. We cannot waste more valuable time. Good day Eragon," Arya said coldly and began to walk away.

Eragon watched after her helplessly, unable to speak. Then he found his voice.

"Wait!"

Arya hesitated.

"I… I know it is not my business to ask you this, but… why do you not speak?"

Arya turned around and stared at him in perplexity. "Speak?"

"Yes. Every time your mind is elsewhere and clearly in great pain, you do not speak of it. I am sure you are not devoid of emotion. Yet you do not confide in us your troubles, your worries… your pain. Are we not your friends?"

Arya's eyes narrowed and her brows converged downwards until they were only a little apart.

"Why must I? It is true you and Saphira have my friendship but I do not need to pour out myself onto you. My feelings are nothing compared to the duty I am bound to. They will be nothing compared to the feelings that I will feel roiling inside me when we will fail to dethrone Galbatorix. They mean and will mean nothing so long as he lives," she stated. The words themselves were not meant to offend, however, Eragon flushed as he realised the implications of her words. So long as Galbatorix lived, neither her pain nor his mattered.

_You speak the truth, _Saphira spoke softly. _However, it is not dangerous to tell your friends what is within your heart. If you speak of it, you may find yourself feeling better if not relieved of some of your burden. That is what we are here for, to share your burden. _

"It does not matter; I cannot reveal so much of myself. Doing so would mean my heart has grown weaker and that would be failing to serve my people and the victims of Galbatorix."

"Why do you hide?" said Eragon suddenly.

"What?" Arya demanded dangerously.

"I said, why do you hide? You may think that if you shut your heart then it would mean that it is strong. That is partially true. The shell behind which your pain lies is strong. Not within. I understand that you have memories that you do not wish to share with us. That is not what we ask for. We ask for your trust."

Arya's shoulders relaxed and she looked almost exasperated. "I _do _trust you both-"

"No, not in that sense," rebutted Eragon roughly. Then in a much softer voice he said, "You do not trust us with your heart."

For a moment it seemed that Arya would give in. So great was her pain that she was reluctant to bear it on her shoulders. Then, she firmly pressed her lips together, replying resolutely, "No, I do not. It is for the greater good."

"Arya, please. You must let us help you…"

_Eragon, don't._

"You cannot help me Eragon. But you can help Alagaesia," said Arya, after considering him for a while.

Without a backwards glance, Arya strode on, her raven hair flowing wildly in the wind, emphasising her royalty even more. Eragon felt a lump in his throat.

_I've done it again, _he said miserably to Saphira. _I've upset her._

_Oh little one, _Saphira said, half sympathetically and half amused. _You cannot take it back but you can mend it. Next time you see Arya, apologise. After all, it _is _her choice, is it not?_

_I suppose._

_Good. Now let us go see Islanzadi. It is important that we tell her of the dragon egg and carry on with our training with Oromis Ebrithil. _

_It's good to have you with me Saphira._

_Of course it is. _


	12. The years of aching and finding peace

The years of aching

The years of aching and finding peace

_Everything I have known to be has changed by those words,_ so thought Arya with sudden numbness. Everything she had ever known, everything she had so stubbornly believed to be true, her values… they wavered for the first time in seventy years. Eragon… how had this happened? How could she have _let _this happen? It was infuriating and yet strangely refreshing that a mere human could change her views… it was… anomalous. And Saphira, her words also resonated in Arya's mind as clearly as a splash of cold water.

_Why do you hide?... _ Eragon had said, his battle weary face imploring her to understand, desperate for her approval. Desperate for her affection… but most of all, desperate for her happiness. But why? Why should he and why did he feel so much for her? Why, why, why? It complicated all things. Before his confession, the only goal in her mind was to focus on her duty and help the next rider to achieve his own goal; dethroning Galbatorix. She paced around in her room and rubbed her temples continuously. It was not so much as what he was implying that unnerved, it was more of the possibility that he was right. Were her feelings still important during these times, in times where there existed only the trails of destruction caused by a madman overrun by his grief? Was she permitted to enjoy things while they lasted? Was it so… wrong to do so? Were Eragon and Saphira right? So many questions… yet so few answers. She stopped by the small trees that she had grown to look like the glyphs of strength, peace and wisdom. Was she _really _strong, or wise? Did she even know what peace was? She brushed a white finger against the smooth surface of a leaf. Then she turned to her bay window which was opened to reveal the gardens of Ellesmera, their numerous flowers decorating the fields with bright lush colours. To her dismay, she did not smile as much as she used to when she looked upon this scene, though she did feel a sense of peace descending into her heart. She sighed a heavy sigh. Nought was clear to her anymore. Perhaps Niduen was right. Maybe she had grown too proud. And maybe… just maybe… the years had turned her cold also. She then left the window to settle on her bed, gazing up at the two fairths hanging above on the wall. The stern, proud elf with silver hair gazed back at her with equal intensity. His green eyes twinkled and his strong face reflected his nobility and once again Arya felt a surge of resentment.

_Why did you leave me to all this father? Why?_

Because of Evandar's death, Arya had to deal with the changes in her mother. Islanzadi had grown more and more protective of Arya over the years and finally Arya's patience had grown thin. The memories of those times came back to her from the time of her father's death…

_Arya read her scrolls like the other elves of her age while inside, her heart lay strained by the worries of war. Her eyes were moving from word to word across the pages but her mind was elsewhere, searching, searching for her father's presence. Then she had a spark of idea… Blagden!_

_In her mind's eye, she covered the distances that separated her from Evandar, over the mountains, across the Hadarac desert and near the Jiet River. A flurry of white feathers obscured her vision and the curved beak opened to reveal the flicking tongue inside. _

"_Wyrda!" he cackled. "Like father, like daughter!"_

"_What?" fifteen year old Arya Drottningu asked, blinking._

"_Like father, like daughter, _

_Like father, like son,_

_All as stubborn as mules _

_And all frightfully naïve!"_

"_Blagden, stop your nonsense! Where is father?"_

"_Wyrda!"_

_Arya sighed, she was wasting her time. She shoved Blagden's presence aside and proceeded to search for her father's. But no matter where she looked, all was blocked from her. All was hidden in a veil of darkness. _

_Confused, Arya came back to reality. She had released her magic just in time to see her maid Ilfaen rush into the chamber and the elves looked up in interest. Sensing that something was wrong, Arya threw down her scroll and hurried to meet her maid. _

"_Ilfaen! What is the matter? What is amiss?" a coldness seeping into her bones and chilling her._

"_My lady! Oh my lady! You must come!" the maid's voice broke between tones of despair._

_Arya's eyes widened and she felt her heart pounding wildly against her breast, as if it wished to be freed of its confinement within her. _

"_Why? Is it to do with my father?" _

_The maid ceased her pleas. "M-my lady…" she choked._

_A lump formed in Arya's throat. "Is it… it cannot be…"_

_Ilfaen remained silent, averting her eyes._

"_Tell me it is not true… my father…" and the ground rushed up to meet her._

_Years after King Evandar's death, Arya was called to Tialdari Hall by Queen Islanzadi. Stern and face ever so unemotional, Islanzadi sat regally upon her vine covered stone throne. She beckoned for Arya to approach her. The elven council all stood to stare at her, their faces haggard due to the lack of sleep. Ignoring their expressions of deep distress, Arya swept past them to face her mother. Without looking at them, Islanzadi commanded the council to leave. The twelve elves left with no objections. After considering her daughter for some time, Islanzadi spoke._

"_You agreed to take up the yawe, Arya," said she. It was a statement._

"_Yes," Arya replied matter of factly._

"_Why?" _

"_Because I want the blood of my father's murderer spilt out onto the dirt."_

"_Is that all?"_

"_I wish to succeed where my father has failed."_

"_But Arya! You cannot take up the yawe! It is just too dangerous! I've kept you safe for so long and I will not have my efforts wasted on a petty vengeance!" Islanzadi disputed in anguish._

"_It is _not _a petty vengeance! This is about more than just restoring honour to our house, this is about my freedom! I will no longer be confined within Ellesmera! I wish to see the lands beyond, to see the differences between our race and the rest of the races. I have been sheltered here for too long!"_

_Arya's voice echoed and rebounded off the walls of the vine covered hall. _

_A cold silence formed between them. Islanzadi's face became deathly white and too late, Arya realised the impact of her words. The queen's eyes blazed with raging fire. _

"_So…ungrateful child… this is what you choose after I give you so much care for fifteen years. You no longer have the right to be called my daughter Arya Svit-Kona. Go and get out of my sight. I _never_ wish to see your face again!"_

_At those words, all the remorse that had been welling up inside of Arya were swept away and replaced by a icy, burning anger. Without a backwards glance, __she turned on her heel towards the door. She threw them open and stomped past the astonished elven council who had attempted to eavesdrop. How _dare_ she! How _dare _she?! She knew how important this was to her… her freedom. And then, she determinedly made up her mind. She would never return unless it was due to political reasons. _

Arya opened her eyes slowly and realised that she was staring at the ceiling. She hauled herself up into a sitting position and blinked groggily. Instantly, her head began to swim and a chill settled into her. What was wrong with her? The slope of her neck ached and line of her sternum was starting to have sharp pains that she could not explain. She hissed and sucked in her breath as another bout of pain came stabbing her chest.

_And there was Brom, standing as strong and proud as ever, gazing at her with a fatherly affection. An affection that Arya was eternally grateful for. His dragon Saphira stood beside him, her sapphire scales glinting like diamonds in the afternoon sun. _

"_So, you are ambassador of the elves, now are you?"_

_Despite the meaning it could have posed, Arya felt herself smile. "I suppose."_

"_Ah, Islanzadi was herself again as usual wasn't she?" Brom remarked, snorting. "A mother's overprotective instinct, I think."_

"_Perhaps," Arya said a little dubiously._

Arya stumbled and fumbled for the window sill, dropping down to one knee, clutching at her heart with her free hand.

_Eragon strapped himself up tightly and prepared to fly up with Saphira to face the new rider. Arya's eyes and his locked onto each others for a split second before Eragon glanced away. Duty… what was duty?_

Arya's breath now came in ragged gasps and all the muscles in her body ached with a dull throbbing pain.

_No… I was wrong… there is no such thing as duty…only choice. _

And Arya knew no more. 


	13. Preparations and Healing

Celebrations

_Sorry for the previous chapter. Trust me, I didn't really like it that much either, but it goes well with the plot so you'll just have to bear it. _

Preparations and healing

Eragon climbed the steps to Tialdari hall and was about to knock on the door when it opened of its own accord. He fingered the leather pouch at his side and both he and Saphira entered. Islanzadi walked forward to meet him, a kind smile lighting up her face. Eragon bowed in respect and twisted his right hand over his sternum in the elven way.

"Your majesty…"

"Eragon! What brings you here at this time of the morning?" asked Islanzadi, smiling still, but also wearing a puzzled expression. "Are you not training with Oromis- elda today?"

"Yes, well… I was planning to, but a recent discussion with Arya lead me here. I have news of importance."

"And what, pray tell, is the news?"

"I did not… could not tell you for fear of disrupting the peace of the elves. I did not think it was the right time… but it is both good and strange news your majesty," said Eragon, uncertain where to start. He decided it was better to show her and drew out the pouch's content. As he had anticipated, Islanzadi gasped in shock. Even Eragon had to stare; for in the morning light the emerald egg seemed to glow more brightly, its shell almost transparent. He held it out to Islanzadi and she moved to take it as if in a dream. She touched it gently and turned it over between her hands, tilting her head now and then to examine it.

"How did you come to obtain it?" her words echoed Arya's and Eragon gave a wry smile.

_Like mother, like daughter I suppose, _he said dryly to Saphira.

_Aye, _Saphira agreed.

This time, it was Saphira who replied. _We found it in the hands of a soldier who had escaped the Empire during our journey to Du WeldenVarden. He was killed by Galbatorix before we could pry much information out of him._

"Truly?" asked Islanzadi sceptically.

"Yes. It was quite odd… nobody could have escaped the Empire so easily without being detected…" said Eragon, his voice trailing off.

"Unless he was trained," Islanzadi said, finishing his sentence.

"Exactly," Eragon said, his eyes shining with hope.

_But it does not make sense… who would do such a daring thing other than the Varden? _asked Saphira.

"Perhaps other rebels exist outside of the Varden!" exclaimed Eragon, his voice no longer concealing his excitement.

"Calm yourself Eragon, the whole of Alagaesia will hear!" said Islanzadi, though her eyes too were sparkling in wonder.

Saphira snorted.

"I must announce this to all elves, they will not care whether it will be elf or human. A new rider will arrive and I will see to it that all will try out for the egg. Thank you Eragon and Saphira, you have yet again given us a new hope. In the meantime, I will prepare to hold a celebration for your discovery and you shall go to Oromis to continue with your training. Do I have your understanding? Your training is your first priority…" she gave a slight smile. "Then comes the festivities."  
"I understand Queen Islanzadi," said Eragon, returning the smile.

"Good," she answered, returning the dragon egg back to Eragon.

Carefully, Eragon returned it to its pouch.

Then she clapped her hands sharply and door at the far corner opened to let in a line of servants. The elves bowed in reverence. In the ancient language, she began to order them about, acting the head of the house. Eragon and Saphira took this as a dismissal and hurried to Oromis' lesson.

It was not long before Eragon and Saphira touched down in front of Oromis' hut. The door opened and Oromis emerged from inside, beaming.

"Eragon," he said, his arms outstretched in welcome. Eragon grinned and they clasped each other's forearms.

"Master, Saphira and I have come to complete our training."

"Yes, so you have. May I ask what delayed you?"

Eragon nodded. "Ebrithil, you will not _believe_ what we have found. Saphira and I were not sure when to inform Queen Islanzadi of it but…" he showed the dragon egg to Oromis.

Unlike the others, Oromis did not gasp but his long, elegant fingers shook as he took it from Eragon. His ancient eyes shone and Eragon was taken aback a little by the single glistening tear that lingered on the cliff of Oromis' eye.

"My boy… in all my years, I have not experienced such a joyful day… it is unbelievable…" Oromis gazed down at the dragon egg, his face already lit up by expressions of pure love.

A powerful beating of wings startled Eragon back to reality. Glaedr's shadow was cast down as the huge golden dragon blocked out the rays of the sun. He landed with a thump.

_Master Glaedr!_ Eragon said, glad to see the old dragon again.

Saphira too, although matured, could not contain her joy at seeing her idol again.

_It is a pleasure to see you again alive and safe Eragon. You too Saphira. _

Saphira bowed her head.

_I heard about the dragon egg. It is truly wonderful news. _

"Yes, and we shall hear all about your adventures. Now, tell us everything Eragon. We would very much like to hear it," said Oromis.

So, sitting on the grass and feeling the breeze on their faces, Eragon and Oromis talked, Eragon describing the previous events and Oromis occasionally asking questions while Glaedr and Saphira spoke silently through their thoughts. Eragon started from the battle on the Burning Plains, how he fought the rider and found out it was Murtagh, how they travelled to Helgrind and rescued Katrina, the fight and the kill. Then he explained the strange meeting with the escapee soldier who had carried the dragon egg with him.

"We don't know who it was exactly but it wasn't a soldier. Islanzadi and I had the discussion this morning and we think it may have been a rebel outside the Varden from a different organisation. How else would he have had avoided Galbatorix's eyes?"

Oromis nodded. "That does seem to be the only explanation. But what else did you find out about him exactly other than the fact that he came from the Empire?"

"Nothing. He was killed by Galbatorix before we could force anything out of him," said Eragon ruefully.

"Hmm…" Oromis looked thoughtful. "This is unfortunate but there is nought we can do about it. It is best to wait before the rebels reveal themselves to Alagaesia. In the meantime the best we can do is to wait."

"What I don't understand is why Galbatorix hasn't started massing an army against us… surely he is desperate to get the egg back?"

Oromis grimaced. "I believe that is Galbatorix's twisted way. We now have two dragons on our side and he has the other two. He wants a final battle that is suited to his taste."

"And there's… something else," said Eragon cautiously. He had not wanted to share this piece of information with the master he respected so much but the time had come. Even Saphira and Glaedr were now listening to their conversation.

"I… when Murtagh fought me and had bested me, he took Zar'roc with him saying… saying that it should be inherited by the eldest not the youngest."

For a moment, Oromis was silent. There was only the trickle of the stream, the songs of the bird and dance of the breeze. The silence was technically very short but to Eragon, it felt like eons. Oromis sighed.

"The inheritance of blood cannot be changed. But do you consider Morzan to be your father?"

"No," said Eragon automatically, his voice filled with loathing for the foresworn.

"Then he is not. It is all you need. Your heart is what matters Eragon. Do not dwell on it," said Oromis kindly.

Eragon bowed, grateful for his support. "Thank you."

"Nay, you do not need to thank me. It is I who should be thanking you for enduring the hardships of responsibility and burden of a rider at such a young age. Today we will not have our lesson for you must recollect your thoughts. I heard from Glaedr that there is to be a celebration tonight. Go and return to your tree. Read the scrolls and review. We will meet with you tomorrow."

Once again, Eragon bowed, more deeply this time. Then, he turned to mount Saphira.

_Eragon… are you alright?_

_Yes. Oromis just made me realise something._

_What?_

_Blood doesn't always tell. Roran was wrong._

_Of course he was wrong Eragon. He wasn't thinking._

Eragon grunted. Together they flew high towards their tree in Ellesmera.

Islanzadi paused after ordering Ilfaen to check on Arya. Though they had had their arguments in the past, she was her mother and she loved her. It was wrong to leave her feeling all the bitterness that memories brought. She sighed. _Evandar… what would you have done in my place?_

Without warning the door to her chamber was flung open to reveal an openly distressed Ilfaen.

"Your majesty! Arya Svit Kona has collapsed! She does not wake!"

"What?" asked Islanzadi in disbelief.

"I do not know the reason behind it all but it seems she is ill!"

Islanzadi swept past her, almost running now. She stopped and whirled around.

"Call the healers! Continue the preparations for the celebration and escort Eragon Shadeslayer to the feasting grounds. Bring the healers to Arya's room. Now!"

"Yes your majesty!"

She ran frantically down the corridor and disappeared out of sight.

Eragon dropped his last scroll on his desk. He yawned and rubbed his eyes sleepily. The only thing that had kept him awake was the prospect of feasting again.

_Dreaming of the goblets of faelnirv you'll be drinking at the feast little one?_ Saphira teased.

_No, as a matter of fact I was thinking of the time you got drunk on those barrels of ale back in Farthern Dur, _replied Eragon impishly.

_You lost consciousness along with me remember?_

_That was only because we are linked mentally _and _physically Saphira._

_Hmph. _

_You're just annoyed because I won the argument and proved my point._

_For once._

A knock on the door interrupted their argument and Eragon called out, "Enter," hoping it was Arya. It wasn't. Instead, an elf maid opened the door. She had long hair of a golden sheen and eyes of piercing blue. Trying not to show his disappointment, Eragon stood up and smiled.

"Greetings, what news do you bring?"

She bowed and touched her lips with her two fingers. "Good evening Rider. I am Ilfaen, maid to Arya Drottningu and I have come to escort you to the feasting grounds."

"Of course. Lead the way."

Ilfaen nodded and turned to go.

"Wait. Do you… may I ask where Arya Svit Kona is? I need to have a word with her."

Ilfaen hesitated, and seeing the worry etched on his face, she relented. "Yes Argetlam. I am afraid she has been taken ill, for she lost consciousness earlier on this morning."

Eragon flinched as he heard her words. "What… why?"

"We do not know," Ilfaen replied, her face reflecting the concern she hid before. "I had stepped into her chamber to notify her of the celebration when I saw her lying on the floor and when I called out to her she did not wake."

_Did the healers say anything?_ Inquired Saphira, her worry echoing Eragon's.

"They only told us to keep her warm and well cared for. And… to keep her content."

_Ah… so it is the effect of stress and pain, _commented Saphira sadly to Eragon.

_Yes… and she would not listen. Why does she keep her feeli__ngs all bottled up inside of her? It is unnatural, even for the elves. _

_It is the experience of years little one. We must respect that._

_Must we?_

Saphira did not answer.

Ilfaen eyed the two nervously. She seemed to be deciding something and said reluctantly, "I can take you to her now if you like."

_Then I will fly ahead to the feasting grounds to __keep the elves busy. Eragon, you go visit Arya._

_Are you sure Saphira?_

_Quite sure little one. _

"All right then. I will come with you."

Arya stared at her reflection in the mirror she held in her hand. She had not noticed earlier on but her hand had begun to shake violently. Now she saw the elf gazing back at her, perfect in every sense; beauty, nobility, strength and courage. But the years of sorrow also took its toll on the perfect princess of Ellesmera and barely visible shadows had settled under her eyes, adding to the dark look that the abnormally slanted eyebrows brought. Almost self-consciously, Arya tilted her head and frowned as she noticed that her pale complexion had an unhealthy yellowish tinge to it. Even as she was examining herself, the door flew open and, as if receiving a shock, Arya jumped. Her hands were a blur and the mirror was gone in a second. There in the doorway was Ilfaen and Arya relaxed, sighing irritably.

"Ilfaen, what is the meaning of this. Do you not know how to knock?"

Ilfaen chose to ignore that question and stepped aside for no apparent reason.

"What-?"

"Arya."

Instantly, Arya's spine straightened and her back became as stiff as wood. Instinctively, Arya's eyes slanted to meet in a scowl and her mouth tightened into a firm line. The deep gentle voice was unmistakeable. _Just who I needed, _Arya thought sadistically.

"Eragon."

He stood in the doorway, gazing at her with kindness, worry in his eyes. Arya stifled a snort. It was so childish, so futile… yet so… healing. With a confused frown, Arya dismissed this thought. It was an equally childish infatuation and it was her duty to guide this inexperienced young man towards the right path, not encourage it. This aggravated her to no end and her next question came out colder than she had intended.

"What brings you here?"

Her blunt tone seemed to affect Eragon and surprise flickered across his face, like a ripple in a pool of spring water. His face was wearyingly expressive. Nevertheless, Arya felt regret stir in her unpleasantly.

Eragon regained his composed face and answered just as amiably as before. "I came to see how you were. I heard from Ilfaen that you had lost consciousness."

Arya sighed. She discreetly dismissed Ilfaen with a flick of her hand. Ilfaen bowed and left, closing the door hesitantly. Eragon pulled up a chair and faced her.

Eragon stared at her, amazed at how Arya had changed in such a short time. Oh, she still retained her ethereal beauty but something in her demeanour and the vivid shadows under her eyes made him uneasy. She almost looked… small and vulnerable. As usual he kept his emotions behind a cool expression but he let his concern show through.

"Arya, this is inane. What were you thinking?"

Arya's expression hardened. "How so?"

"I know… well, Saphira and I know you collapsed out of overstress. Is it so difficult, Arya? Is it so wrong to be comforted that you would lose consciousness rather than confide in us and release your affliction?"

The ice chips in her gaze subsided and Arya regarded him with a look that was bordering on fondness.

"Eragon…"

"No," Eragon interposed firmly, hardness in his eyes for the first time. "This time, Arya, this time, you listen to us. It is madness to keep all that in you. Memories, the pain of duty, resentment… it is not right to lose control Arya. But neither is it right to build that up inside of you. If it fills to the brim, if it cannot be contained any longer, what will you do?"

"Eragon, do you not understand?" Arya sighed exasperatedly. "This is neither about me nor my losses. I must do it… for the good of Alagaesia. Galbatorix's army grows stronger by the day, the Varden is short of necessities, the new rider must be found and trained… and who knows how long that may take? If he or she is human…" Arya hastily put a hand to her lips.

Eragon knew that she had not meant it that way but the insinuation was clear to his mind and his heart took the blow. He grimaced. "Of course… if it is a human rider, he or she would take longer to reach our… your standards…" by 'your' he meant the elves, and Arya looked away. "… than an elf would."

"Yes…" said Arya, facing him again.

They stayed like that for quite a while, Arya sitting up on the bed with a defensive expression plastered on her face and Eragon standing there with his arms folded defiantly to his chest. Both glared at each other. Then Eragon thought with a growing realisation that he and Arya seemed to be arguing a lot frequently lately; there used to be some conflict between them occasionally of course, or none at all. But it had begun to change; the stone faced expressions were gone, replaced by the hard, heavy burden of life. Even her hands had started to seem restless, fidgeting uncomfortably and her eyes revealing a fiery passion he never thought he would see in his days alive. Although… her spine held the same stiff stature as usual. All the same, Eragon felt his heart melt at the sight of the pitiful elf before him. Beautiful, yes, but so poignant was she that he had no choice but to soften his gaze.

"Arya…" then he stopped, shaking his head. "It's no use, is it?"

Arya frowned at the sudden change in his attitude. She cocked her head.

"Do you find life so threatening and full of terror that you must hide everything?"

This particular comment did nothing to the ease the frown on her face. "Terror? Threatening? I do not fear life Eragon," she said haughtily. "I am merely afraid of the consequences it may bring when we should fail. I fear for my people, my mother, my reputation, Alagaesia…"

Arya's brows creased in confusion as she realised what she was saying.

"You see, Arya? Your sense of _duty _has clouded your mind. Do not be controlled by it. Fear is fear Arya and whether it is fear of life or fear for the consequences, they are one and the same. Arya…" Eragon, now truly worried for his friend, kneeled down beside her bed and looked up into her eyes. "You will be consumed by your worries, your fears and your duties if you do not take control of yourself."

"I _am _taking control of myself Eragon. Do not think that I am like one of your human females. I have told you before. I am not weak, I am an elf."

"And you are exposed to emotions and physical blows like any other mortal. Your heart is much scarred Arya."

There was a prolonged silence. With an unreadable emotion, Arya scrutinised his face, her eyes narrowing in confusion, as if she was attempting to draw out some invisible clue. Eragon stared back with a solemn face, eyes never leaving hers. Then to his surprise, she smiled. And it was not her usual smile of amusement… it was something else close to respect and gratitude. This caught him off guard and Eragon had to muster all his strength just to get his befuddled feelings under control.

"You have a way with words Eragon-finiarel. I do not think anyone would ever best you in a duel of determination. And as for your unwavering insistence, I do not think that I should be the one to put it out. With your permission will you allow me to collect my thoughts?" asked she with sincerity.

Eragon stared at her. Was this truly Arya? The Arya he knew?

_Eragon, the celebration is ready to start… are you still with Arya?_ came Saphira's mild voice.

_Aye… don't worry, I'm coming._

_Good, the elves are getting restless without you and Islanzadi._

_Islanzadi?_

The door was flung open and Eragon quickly stood up, his eyes widening.

It was Islanzadi.

The queen's hair was windswept and her usually regal posture was gone, replaced with the anxious appearance of a mother.

"Arya… what-?" it was then that the elven queen realised who else was in the room. "Eragon?"

"I… yes, I… I was just visiting Arya to see if she was well…" he finished lamely.

"Of course… of course… well, you had best be going, for the elves await my announcement. Would you mind covering for me?"

"Of course your majesty. I shall tell them myself if you wish."

"Yes, that may be better."

"Well then… until later your majesty… and Arya Drottingu," said Eragon formally, bowing to them both.

And with that, he left, gently closing the door behind him.

Islanzadi faced her daughter. "What have you two been discussing?"

"My healing," said Arya with a slight smile.

Islanzadi cocked one delicately slanted eyebrow.


	14. Festivities

Crack in the egg

Festivities

Eragon stood there uncertainly, a little perturbed by the restlessness of the elves. He knew them to be merry and cheerful but also impatient in the midst of celebration. Saphira blew a puff of smoke and watched it rise into the air. Eragon sighed and knew he had to do something or he would look more of a fool. He cleared his throat and the sounds of laughter and throng of voices ceased to listen to his words. Instantly Eragon felt self conscious and he felt the blood rush up to his ears. The elves waited expectantly, excitement and curiosity in their eyes.

As Eragon was about to speak, an apologetic voice called out, "Wait!"

Relief brightened Eragon's face and his shoulders relaxed visibly. He rushed to make room for Islanzadi on the dais. To his surprise, Arya emerged from the darkness also, following Islanzadi and Eragon gave her a questioning look. Arya gave him a slight nod and turned to the citizens. Eragon took that as a dismissal and, a little hurt by her indifference, returned his focus to the audience.

"Elves of Ellesmera," Islanzadi began, her voice a little breathless from the hurry. "Today you are gathered here today to witness the announcement of a miraculous discovery. It is a discovery that we have all been waiting for and a most joyous discovery it is! For our honoured rider Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Bjartskular have come across the next hope of Alagaesia!"

Without further ado, Islanzadi took the pouch from Eragon's outstretched hands and drew out the egg, presenting it high in the air for all to see. There was a greatly audible gasp from all the elves, a ripple of murmur travelling through the crowd. All began talking animatedly at once, pointing and shouting exclamations of joy and numerous praises for Eragon and Saphira. Many were on the verge of tears and they stared in wonder at the emerald glow of the dragon egg.

"As you can see, this dragon egg has been found and snatched from under the nose of Galbatorix himself and I will see to it that we shall all become drunk with the fever of festivities! Tonight we sleep under the stars!" said Islanzadi, her melodic voice clear in the dark of the night.

A deafening cheer erupted and all scattered to feast and dance, grabbing goblets of wine in the process. Eragon stood tall, watching in mirth and great contentment beside Saphira. He noticed that Arya stood well away from all the excitement and activity. It struck him then that she was very different from the rest of her race; quite withdrawn, straightforward, stubborn, silent and dispassionate. She was unsure of how to behave and that puzzled him.

_What was Arya thinking, coming out at a time like this? _Eragon commented to Saphira.

_I do not know, but she must have thought she was well enough for this occasion._

_She should know better._

_Now you're just sounding like an overprotective husband, _Saphira snorted.

At this particular retort, Eragon's face turned scarlet. He looked away from Arya. His gaze fell upon an elf maiden that was dancing merrily with her partner, both linked by arms, twirling and twisting. Eragon felt a grin forming on his face and clapped along with the other elves as the dance finished and the next set of couples came forward to dance. Throughout the celebration, Eragon drank, watched, laughed and ate, often conversing with Arya and Nari. Arya did not smile at all but made short replies and Nari joked continuously. Once, to his surprise, an elf maiden approached him and asked for a dance. Eragon choked on his salad and declined, laughing and saying dancing was not one of his good skills. The elf maiden smiled graciously and said she perfectly understood. The other younger elves smiled teasingly.

"Ah, Shadeslayer, you should have accepted her offer. She is called Jildai and is considered one of the few beauties of Ellesmera," said Althinae.

"Aye, she is, she is. A wonderful maiden, eyes of sparkling sapphire, chestnut brown hair and lips red as cherry," agreed Durin, an apprentice scholar, his eyes far away.

"You sound as if you are in love with her yourself Durin," teased Ethenel.

All three elves laughed heartily and drank heavily. Throughout this conversation, Arya had sat still, appearing not to listen and Eragon studied her from the corner of his eye, anxious that she had not said a word. Her growing silence concerned him and when he noted this to Saphira, she snorted and ignored him. This perplexed him even more and Eragon shrugged helplessly. Suddenly, Arya excused herself and began to walk away. He decided to question the elves.

He motioned for Althinae, Durin and Ethenel to lean forwards. "Is Arya Svit-Kona always like this during celebrations or feasts?"

The three elves glanced at each other. "Well," said Althinae in a low voice, "she does behave like so occasionally but not as strangely as she does today. It does worry us, but we leave her to her privacy."

Durin finished drinking his goblet of faelnirv. "Mm. A difficult one she is, our princess. Her aura demands obedience but her heart yearns for more I think. We elves are a merry race, graceful, yes, but content in excitement. Arya Drottningu is an exception."

"Still, there are many who would wish for her hand. After all, she is beautiful beyond measure and her beauty often stirs the hearts of elves."

Eragon frowned a little. Was beauty all they cared for? It could not be helped, he supposed, for the elves' greatest weakness was vanity. Eragon excused himself and followed Arya, weaving through the crowds and through the bushes and out into a clearing. He looked around nervously, for he had never been here before.

"Eragon?" Arya's throaty voice came floating out from the dark. Her pale face came into view as the moonlight caught it. "Why did you follow?"

"I-I… needed to have a word with you," Eragon stammered.

"Is that so?"

"… yes."

She stepped closer and Eragon suddenly found it hard to breathe. What was wrong with him?

"I… wanted to ask you why you came to the celebration tonight," Eragon said, putting on a serious face.

For a moment, she did not answer. Finally, to Eragon's embarrassment, she laughed.

"Oh, Eragon. You are quite silly, but yes, I suppose that would be strange in your eyes. In our culture, Eragon, we do not care much for illnesses other than very grave circumstances and my position as princess prompted me to be present. And the reason for my coming here was because I required some time away from the buzzing atmosphere."

"Oh…" Eragon muttered, still reasonably abashed at demanding her for an answer to a childish question.

It was then he realised she was still staring at him.

"Excuse me for my impertinence. I will leave you to your private time," Eragon said.

Once again, to Eragon's mortification, Arya burst out laughing. She shook her head and took his hand, leading him back to the celebration.

"But Arya… do you not need to refresh your mind? I thought-"

"I am quite well now thank you Eragon. Join in with the festivities since you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. Oromis does not take his lessons lightly."

"Of course."

For the rest of the celebration, Eragon spent the time drinking and talking with the elves, some young, some old and some of middle age, all had much to tell him. The music changed and Eragon found himself enjoying it, as it was a favourite among the elves, slow and sad but grand and elegant: a noble dance. Arya stayed still, listening intently and her eyes far away. Many elves listened now and Islanzadi stopped her conversation with her advisor to listen also. Then Arya stood up, the side of her mouth upturned slightly into an amused smile. Laughter danced around her lips. Eragon looked up at her in question.

"Eragon Shadeslayer. Would you have this dance with me?"

Eragon felt himself go absolutely still, his head swimming with faelnirv's effect but also with shock.

He distantly heard himself saying, "Of course, Arya Svit-Kona."

Althinae, Durin and Ethenel stared at them both, sharing surprised looks with each other. Eragon offered Arya his arm and led her to the dance. Together, they started the dance, Eragon rather stiffly but Arya more gracefully and relaxed. The elves turned to gape and exchange glances, smiling a little uncertainly at the two but some frowning. The string instruments vibrated and trembled, producing passionate tones full of ardour and grace. Whatever nerves he felt in the beginning, Eragon found had gone, replaced by a comforting feeling, as if he was floating in a dream with Arya's soft hand in his, her midnight black hair brushing his cheek and her crushed pine scent lingering in his nose. Once or twice he found his eyes lost in Arya's, though he doubted she knew. When this happened, he would look away quickly, knowing he risked his image in times like those. He felt how intimately close they were and he could see every detail of her; her smooth white hands, the lines on her head where the hair parted, her long exotic eyelashes, perfectly sculpted nose and her lips… redder than cherry but not too red either. Red as a rose. Eragon felt as if he was lost in a world where there were only he and Arya, together, dancing irretrievably.

And the music stopped. Eragon hastily pulled himself together and bowed to Arya, thanking her for gracing him with this dance. A little dazedly, Eragon strode towards his table and sat himself down, downing a goblet of wine. A group of young elves surrounded him, their eyes eager for his story.

"Master Shadeslayer, how did you fare?"

"You did not step on her foot?"

"Did she really smell of crushed pine?"

"Did you feel your heart pounding frantically?"

"Did you-?"

"Stop!" Eragon commanded, his head dizzy with the questions. "One at a time my friends!"

All of them were, of course, older than Eragon by a few years but Eragon rather felt that he was the eldest of them.

"I cannot believe she asked you for a dance. 'Tis fate! You are quite blessed Shadeslayer," sighed Durin, running a hand through his silvery hair.

"Aye," agreed Ethenel.

"So, are you two mates?" asked Althinae casually.

Eragon accidentally spat out his wine. Althinae grimaced and removed the mess on his tunic with magic.

"Sorry?" Eragon asked, blinking rapidly and thinking that his ears had deceived him.

"Are you two mates?"

The elves looked to him expectantly.

"No, no!" he laughed. "You are all mistaken, she merely asked me for a dance."

"But I think you are mistaken Shadeslayer. One does not ask for a dance without purpose."

Now Eragon was growing a little annoyed. He frowned. "Enough of this, we are extremely good friends, that is all. It would be wrong of us to become more than that in these troubling times."

"Of course, Argetlam," replied Althinae, eventually understanding the message. "We were quite drunk and overexcited. Yes, we were not thinking properly. Forgive us."

Eragon waved his hand in acceptance and gulped another goblet full of wine.

_Did you enjoy your dance with Arya?_

Eragon jumped and whirled around.

_Saphira! I didn't even hear you! _

_You weren't always the sharpest Eragon._

_Still…_

_Anyway, did you?_

_Did I what?_

Saphira snorted in exasperation. _Did you enjoy your dance?_

_Oh…_

_Eragon…_

_Quite enjoyable, I suppose._

_Quite enjoyable? Is that all you have to say? Islanzadi was watching you too rather closely._

_What did you expect me to say then?_

_More._

Eragon grunted and returned to his food and wine.

_Eragon you know what I am trying to say, _pressed Saphira.

Eragon did not answer.

_You must repress your feelings. You are human._

_Yes, Saphira, and she is an elf princess, _Eragon shot back bitterly.

_She is a hundred years old, you are fifteen._

_I know._

_I know you know, I was just reminding you to be careful of your actions._

When Eragon did not reply, Saphira left, leaving him to his thoughts.

Eragon took a swig of faelnirv.

_I must repress my feelings, _he thought drowsily.

He had a fleeting vision of a swish of midnight black hair.

Eragon downed another goblet of faelnirv.

_I must repress my feelings…_

Another gulp sent the burning liquid flowing down his throat.

_I must repress my feelings…_

A heavy scent of crushed pine enveloped him and Eragon irritably fanned it away.

_I must repress my feelings…_

His last memory of the celebration was of the table rushing up to meet his head and elves dancing like there were no tomorrow under the gaze of the entrancing moon.

"Wyrda!" Blagden squawked.


	15. Crack in the egg

Yeah, sorry guys

**Yeah, sorry guys. I was wondering about a few things that I needed to put into the chapter and all so it all fitted in with the plot that I was planning. I just had one of those writer's blocks this week… sorry it took a long while… but anyway, here you are. Enjoy! (while you still can)**

**Crack In The Egg**

Countless indecipherable images churned inside Eragon's mind and delved deep into his sub consciousness. It reached into the passages of mysteries, thoughts that were to be and were within, controlling his consciousness as well as his actions. But tonight, it seemed to explore further than usual, probing his very soul and even his fate. How that came to be, it cannot be explained, but all Eragon knew was that he was taken to a very extraordinary scene. The dream was familiar, but foreign at the same time and drew Eragon, but at the same time, repelled him.

_It was hazy, as if the dream was displayed within a shroud of mist. Eragon inched closer, fear flooding his heart and his eyes straining to see through it. Somewhere in the distance, a hammer fell, its clang ringing even in the dense and humid air. To the right a horn blew deep and rich. To the left __a low growl was heard, followed by some shuffling noises. As he took another step, something cracked beneath him, and Eragon looked down to see the ground cracked, dry and brown. Swallowing, he pressed on, now beyond curiosity. Suddenly, he could make out a dark figure in front, obscured by the immeasurable mist. _

"_Hail!" he called out, hoping he or she would know the way out._

_The head turned towards him and Eragon gasped as the person's eyes glowed as red as the fire in the forges of the dwarves. However, it was not this that perturbed him the most, for the eyes belonged to a woman who looked very much like the babe he had cursed. Elva. Her lips curled up into a strange smile, emotionless and alien._

"_What do you seek?"_

"_A way out, lady."_

"_And are you worthy of this?"_

_The woman waved a hand and parted the mist, revealing a clear way through. Skeletal gnarled trees lined the edge of the pathway and without warning, a crowd of people, all with glowing eyes and unearthly sheen enveloping them, congregated together, blocking his way. One of them, an elf with flowing silver hair took a step forward and spoke clearly, his voice deep and commanding. _

"_Speak your name and prove your worth."_

"_I-I…" Eragon stammered. He did not know what was going on. Who were these people?_

"_Speak your name and prove your worth," the elf repeated. _

_Eragon opened his mouth to speak but suddenly the people and the path blurred, becoming out of focus. Eragon's last memory of the place was the eyes of the elf and he realised that, unlike the others, the elven lord had violet eyes, full of wisdom and danger…_

"_Eragon…"_

Eragon's ears pricked up and his eyelids blinked open. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the morning light. He felt something breathe on his cheek. He turned his head and came face to face with Saphira. She blew into his hair, ruffling it playfully.

_Eragon, you do sleep quite heavily. And I thought I slept like a rock._

_Well, you were mistaken, _said Eragon, grinning.

Saphira smiled, displaying all of her sharp white teeth. Eragon patted her side and heaved himself up, his head a little lightheaded from the drinking last night. Last night… Eragon flushed as he recalled the celebration the previous night. _That's right, I danced with Arya…_

Then he frowned as he mulled over the past events. Indeed, Arya had not been herself last night, but she _had_ been acting quite strangely lately. Maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to loosen up and unchain some of the duties that she had been bound to before. Maybe she was starting to listen to his advice and forget the pain that brought her chin up so high. Perhaps.

_What are you thinking, little one?_ asked Saphira curiously, tilting her scaly head to one side.

Eragon shook his head. _Nothing Saphira, it's nothing._

Saphira did not seem convinced but did not press him. Instead she looked around. _Nearly all the elves are up already Eragon. We must go to our lesson. Oromis is waiting. _

Eragon nodded. Around them, elves stirred and woke, stretching and breathing in the fresh air, laughing and chatting with one another. Eragon smiled.

_It's so peaceful here… I could get used to this._

_Not quite yet little one. We must focus on training ourselves to get ready for the final battle. But maybe after we may._

_I know, but it's as if Galbatorix never took over Alagaesia. It's as if nothing, not even the war in the burning plains happened. As if none of this ever happened._

_Yes, Ellesmera does have this effect on people, _said Saphira a trifle sadly.

_Aye. Well, we had better be going._

_Hop on my back then. _

Eragon lightly stepped up onto the bulges in Saphira's muscles, leaping into the saddle. He knotted all the straps and Saphira took off from the ground, her wings spread out wide in the sky, the veins in her membrane vividly red and blue in the sunlight. Down on the grass the elves waved them both goodbyes, their smooth flowing hair glistening.

_Well… here we are again._

_Indeed we are Eragon. I wonder what Master Oromis and Master Glaedr have left to teach us. _

_I'm sure it is important._

_Obviously. _

There was a comfortable silence as Saphira glided across the sky, the pine trees rushing past beneath them both and the warm sunlight bathing them. Eragon breathed in the smell through his nose, the smell of pine and the smell that was nature. It filled him with peace and energy of such vigour that he felt it spreading and coursing through his blood. In the distance he saw a cluster of houses that reached a height where it rivalled even Vrael's tree, their branches long, slender, but sturdy. And at that moment, Eragon thought that it was the most beautiful scene that he had ever clapped his eyes upon. It was so simple, yet so quiet and serene that it was impossible to feel depressed before such a panorama.

_It's amazing how some things before that meant little, now mean so much more to us, _he commented to Saphira.

Saphira fixed him with a glassy blue eye. _Yes, it is also quite astonishing how a boy such as yourself has become such a man in such a short time. Everything changes in these troubling times Eragon. The only thing we can do is to enjoy the beauty of life while it lasts._

Eragon looked up towards the heavens and sighed a heavy sigh. _But who would seek to destroy such beauty?_

_Those who would use it to their own benefits and power._

_Then we must destroy them first._

_That is an easier task said than done, though I agree with you._

Both elapsed into silence and Saphira flapped her wings twice before speeding up, heading towards the hut of Oromis.

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Eragon knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he waited, for he could hear some shuffling inside. Footsteps were heard and the door swung open, revealing a haggard looking Oromis. Surprised and concerned, Eragon took a step forward, making to support his master. Smiling a little wearily, Oromis waved his hand aside. "I am quite fine thank you Eragon. Our lesson is of more importance than my fatigue."

"But ebrithil…"

"Saphira, you go to Glaedr, he is in a clearing a little east of the cliff."

_Yes master, _Saphira answered before launching herself up into the air from the ground.

Then Oromis turned his attention to Eragon, his eyes grave. "Come, we must walk quite a way."

Without stopping for an answer, Oromis lead the way, striding quite quickly, despite his tired appearance. Eragon, knowing better than to question him, followed suit, shaking his head.

It was a hike that took them about a quarter of an hour, for the path twisted this way and that, sometimes disappearing into parts of the forest and avoiding the rocky walls of the cliff. The longer they walked, the more it seemed to Eragon that the trees bowed as they came through. Even the wind seemed unnatural, as it did not make the noise it should have made, rather, it produced whispering sounds that echoed the lays of ages that had risen and fallen. Eragon listened in wonder, but it seemed Oromis had other ideas. They had reached a hollow, and strangely, it was bathed in a soft blue glow. In the middle was a tree stump much like the one he was used to meditating on in the forest of Du WeldenVarden. Puzzled, he looked to Oromis.

"Master?"

Oromis slowly turned around, and his lack of speed slightly alarmed Eragon. Was Oromis' strength already failing him?

"Eragon…"

"Yes, ebrithil?"

Oromis shook his head and closed his eyes as if in pain. Then his eyes snapped open with a sharpness that unnerved Eragon. He riveted them onto Eragon's confused face. "The situation is graver than I feared. Do you remember the days of your meditation?"

"Of course."

"You are to meditate here on this stump and tell me what you see and hear."

"But master… what is different about this? Why did we have to come here?"

Oromis studied the boy's face, his eyes thoughtful. In the glow of the hollow, Oromis' face looked gaunt and old, the first signs of age creeping into his appearance.

"Do you wish to know?"

Eragon nodded, a little uncertain as to whether this information would be safe or not.

"Then I shall tell you. While all of us were watching idly, Galbatorix has been doing something I never thought I would hear of again."

"And what is that?" asked Eragon, his voice dry.

"He has gone beyond everything and everyone to obtain ultimate power. Of course, he has not yet obtained the power, for I daresay he does not yet know how to use it." He paused, looking very serious.

"He has opened the Vault of Souls."

There was a deathly silence and Eragon stood there stock still, while the wind whispered ominously.

Finally he managed to croak, "You know what it is?"

Oromis nodded. "When you told me of Murtagh's sudden heightened strength it filled me with suspicion. To do so would have taken enormous energy, enough to kill a man of magic instantly. So that is why, with a little research I discovered the explanation. No other exists, for I myself have the only copy of _Geuloth Wyrda_, written by an elven scholar, many years ago. But… how did you come to know about the Vault of Souls?"

Eragon avoided his eyes and stared at the ground. "I… some time ago, I met the werecat Solembum who mentioned to me the Vault of Souls at the rock of Kuthian. I did not know what it was then and I do not know now. Saphira and I agreed that it was best to tell no one else about it."

"And you were right to do so, for it is personal information. However, I cannot explain to you what it is, for you are not ready yet." Oromis paused and lifted Eragon's chin, making Eragon look him straight in the eye.

"Believe me, it is a terrible, terrible deed for one already corrupted so much by his grief, and you would do well to ready yourself for the blow that is to come Eragon-finiarel."

Both stared into each other's eyes, each feeling the terror at the sheer mentioning of the Vault of Souls. Though, for Eragon's part, it was strangely intriguing.

"But enough of this talk, sit yourself on the stump and meditate," said Oromis.

Eragon nodded and sat himself on the stump, once more closing his eyes and tuning himself to the world around him. Many things skittered around and even more gathered in groups of their own kind. This surprised Eragon, for all creatures were acting abnormally. Suddenly, as if sensing his stare, all turned towards him, their eyes glowing a fiery red. Then the dream returned to him, though this time, the mist parted and the people turned to beetles, red ants, spiders, foxes and birds of every kind. A fox approached him and to Eragon's horror, it opened its mouth, echoing the words of the elven lord.

"Speak your name and prove your worth."

_Then the scene changed and a man clad in blue armour crossed swords with a man clad in red armour atop a hill. The land was being burned by a ferocious fire and all around, men and urgals in armour clashed together, either screaming in agony or roaring in triumph. The air was alive with the frenzy of the battle. _

_High in the sky, two dragons manoeuvred in the air, singeing each other with the burn of their fiery breaths. _

Then suddenly the world rushed back to him and Eragon found himself lying panting on the grass, sweating feverishly. The fire… it had seemed so real, it seemed to scorch the very hair on his skin. For a while, he lay there, listening to the sound of nature and brooding on the strange visions. After reflecting on what he had seen, Eragon headed back to Oromis' hut.

When he arrived, Saphira and Glaedr were resting near the stream.

_Eragon, what happened? You look terrible!_ Saphira exclaimed, deeply concerned.

_I'll tell you later. For now, I have to speak with Master Oromis. _

Eragon strode past her and knocked once again on Oromis' door. He knocked again but there was no answer. There seemed to be no noise whatsoever. Worried, Eragon opened the door cautiously, and there Oromis sat, his elbows on the table, his eyes closed and the palm of his hands supporting his forehead.

"Ebrithil…"

Oromis lifted up his head, seeming not to recognise him for a moment.

"Ah, Eragon. Have you finished meditating? Here, drink," he said, handing Eragon a cup of a liquid he could not identify.

When Oromis saw that Eragon was eying it quite suspiciously, he gave a smile. "'Tis Nildew. It soothes the heart and body. Drink, for it is not poisonous."

Eragon took a sip and felt the hot liquid slip down his throat and spread throughout his body to the tip of his toes. He glanced at Oromis.

"I am afraid it does not work for me," Oromis explained sadly. "My body is beyond medical treatment."

Eragon bowed his head. Oromis chuckled softly. "Do not mourn for me Eragon, it is fate and we cannot escape it."

"Can't we?"

Oromis shook his head. "No one can. It is the core of everything and it controls everything. But enough of this Eragon! Let me hear about your meditation for it is important now above all else."

So Eragon told Oromis about his vision, the strange behaviour of the animals and insects, even his dream the other night. He was not interrupted, but Oromis, for all his impassiveness, revealed an emotion that had not been shown before: Fear. And this scared Eragon the most, for although everyone else was afraid, Oromis' confidence and teaching eased his fear, but to see now the emotion flickering across his mentor's face demoralized Eragon.

"Your visions reach further into the void world than I had expected."

"But what does it mean?"

"It means that the Vault of Souls has been opened. The last time it did, it was by a philosopher who had gone too far in his research. I remember it then and it was much like your visions today but not as far as your mind took you. You must be strongly connected with fate herself."

For this, Eragon had no answer.

Oromis studied his face before handing him a scroll. "Read and relax your mind. For the rest of the day, you will read the scrolls I give you and write me a paper on the battle tactics of King Andolin and state your opinions on his view of politics."

Eragon took the scrolls that Oromis gave him and turned to him. "But master, may I ask what the point was of my meditation today?"

"It was a test."

"A test of what?" Eragon asked, perplexed.

"A test of strength."

When Oromis saw that Eragon still looked baffled, he sighed. "I shall explain to you another time. Today, it is not necessary to talk about it, and I am tired. Come to my hut tomorrow at noon."

Eragon took it as a dismissal and began to walk away.

"Eragon."

Eragon turned to face Oromis. "Yes, master?"

"I am sorry to give you such a fright today after such a night of celebration. But it was necessary for your training."

"I understand."

"Good, now off with you before you make me feel guilty."

Eragon bowed and exited.

_Eragon? Will you tell me now?_

_Of course, when we're flying._

He nimbly stepped up Saphira's leg and jumped into the saddle.

_Good evening Master Glaedr._

_Good evening Eragon and Saphira, listen and study well._

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As they flew back to Ellesmera, Eragon told Saphira of the day's events, telling her of his visions, his dream and Oromis' fear.

_I still cannot believe you didn't tell me about the dream, _Saphira snorted indignantly.

_Well what could you have done about it?_

_Nothing._

_Exactly, so then what's all the fuss about?_

_A rider must tell his dragon everything, from dreams to life threatening secrets._

Eragon threw his hands up in surrender. _I'm sorry._

_Sorry isn't enough._

Eragon chose to ignore this particular retort and instead stared down at the looming tree of Vrael. He noticed a speck beside it.

_It seems we have a visitor._

The visitor turned out to be Arya, who had been waiting for him to arrive a while ago. Trying not to show the blush that threatened to rise to his cheeks, Eragon gave a welcoming smile. A snatch of last night's dance flashed in his mind. Arya seemed to be thinking about the same thing, for she carefully avoided his eyes and instead kept her green ones fixed upon Saphira.

"Arya! What brings you here to our tree?"

"I have come to tell you of the choosing ceremony. All elves shall gather to touch the dragon egg you found. I came to ask you if, since you two are the honoured guests, you would like to come and watch."

_Of course, Arya. We would be delighted._

Arya nodded in approval and Eragon and Saphira followed.

After some time, they arrived at the feasting grounds, which had been chosen as the ceremonial area due to its size. Eragon's eyes widened as he saw it packed with thousands, no, millions of elves who had come from all over the country to be tested. The atmosphere was dense with the chatting and animated conversations of the elves and Eragon's head was dizzy with the splendour of it all, for the grounds had been decorated to suit the occasion. Banners and many silky coloured materials were hung on poles or stands where people were to watch. It was an exciting event and elves old and young had flocked to touch the dragon egg, hoping to be found a rider. Shaking his head, Eragon sat himself down on a chair at the honoured table. Every now and then, elves would come up and greet him, some with gifts and some with praises. Eragon accepted their offers and thanked them, but inwardly he was anxious for the ceremony to start. Then as the sun neared the highest peak in the sky, it began. One by one they placed their hands on the glowing emerald egg but to everyone's deep disappointment, none were successful. It was already past lunch and the day wore on until the night settled down, casting her blanket of stars over the earth. However, no one gave up hope, for many were still left and come dinner the test would be completed. Eragon drank from his goblet but even the strongest wine could not calm his thoughts, for his mind was full of anxiety and dread.

_Please let it be one of the elves here, _he silently begged to no one in particular.

_Eragon, if you say that one more time I shall pluck you from that minute chair and throw you high above and humiliate you in front of everyone._

_But Saphira, you know how I feel about this. It just _must _be an elf. That is our only hope._

_If you keep thinking that, you will get it._

_All right, all right. _

But despite Eragon's worry, he still could not help looking for Arya, who had not turned up yet to the honoured table, though Islanzadi had come.

_Perhaps she is ill, _Saphira suggested.

_It is possible, but this is too important of a ceremony to miss._

_True._

Dinner came quickly and Eragon was now wringing his hands in anticipation. Saphira snorted in amusement but she too was quite concerned now, for the new rider had still not been chosen. The grounds had been full of mirth and laughter before, but now it was deathly silent and the children had to be hushed. Many looked on with strained patience and even Islanzadi was tapping her index finger on the arm of her chair- a sign of growing impatience. Finally, the last seven were left, all elvish faces stony and grave. Eragon's eyes roved over them until it came to the last figure and he started violently. Her midnight black hair flowed in the breeze and her green eyes glowed unusually. Although her posture displayed serenity and calmness, her hands betrayed her apprehension. Eragon read the usual signs of uneasiness in the way she held herself and the taut lines until her eyes and the thinness of her firmly sealed lips. The seconds passed and it was down to Arya and the elf Thinyali, a well respected elf in her twenty eighth year. The grounds were still with elves holding their breaths, none moving, none speaking. It was Thinyali's turn and she stepped up to the egg, staring at it in wonder. Swallowing visibly, the elf placed a shaking hand on the egg, her hazel eyes glinting with expectation. The crowd watched her with bated breaths but it was to no avail. Though her hand stayed placed on the smooth surface of the egg, nothing happened and the elves sighed and groaned. Even Eragon was ready to give up hope, for although he hoped more than anything that Arya was the next rider, the chance of her being it was very slim. All watched in fear as Arya, the princess of Ellesmera with her stern face, advanced. Her pale arms flashed in the night and her slender fingers brushed the egg that was set on a velvet cushion upon a glass table. Nothing happened and the crowd groaned and sighed angrily. Some even stamped their feet and many cried, "Now the Varden will have it! What ill luck is this?" Eragon's shoulders sank in defeat. So, it was all for nothing, everything they had prepared for may as well go to waste.

_Well, it was worth a tr-_

A sudden, deafening _crack!_ was heard across the grounds, as clear as the sound of a bell but as rough as the boom of thunder. All turned in renewed fear and shock to the source of the sound.

And there, holding the egg in her elegant hands was Arya, a permanent look of astonishment plastered onto her face. The rider had been found.


	16. Source of Power

Sorry about the long wait, people. I know it's been an excruciatingly long time but no, I have not abandoned this story. I just needed inspiration... besides, I couldn't wait till Brisingr came out. Pity I read it in two days TT. Now I've come back to my own story. Enjoy!

**Source of Power**

Eragon placed his cup of camomile tea back on the wooden table outside Oromis' hut.

"You think it is unfortunate that Arya was chosen?" Oromis asked, slanted eyebrows raised slightly.

Eragon shrugged. "Not unfortunate. Nay, it is more than I could ever hope for. However…" he faltered, fumbling for the right words.

"However you feel that it places her in a position more perilous and you do not know what to think of it?"

Saphira snorted and let out a puff of smoke. _He rarely knows _what_ to think._

Her tease went straight over Eragon's head, harmless. Opposed to Saphira's sarcastic remark, Eragon sat silently on his stool, wearing an expression that displayed his nonchalance. Oromis cocked a slanted eyebrow.

"Well, whatever you think of it Eragon, know this: she will be the one to help you overthrow Galbatorix. It is an immense relief that an elf with experience and wisdom such as she was chosen to be the next rider in these times. I apologise if that was a little offensive for… the human race, but-"

"No, it's the truth. I promise that I will make full use of this, Master. However there is still something we need to cover: what of her training? Does she need little, or none at all?"

"Ah, now that, I was getting to. Yes, despite Arya's proficiency in all areas, she must undergo some of the more… moral training sessions together with her dragon. A rider and her dragon are useless in battle if they are not completely and utterly bonded in mind and soul. I am not quite sure when Arya's dragon will be able to speak properly and think with a matured mind but when that time arrives then you or she must tell me and we will begin to train her at once."

"Of course… wait a minute, _we_, Master? I was under the impression that…"

"That I was going to be the teacher and you would be there at the sidelines watching?" Oromis chuckled, but not unkindly. "No, Eragon. I have taught you all I have to teach. However, it is for you also to pass on that knowledge. That is another lesson for you. I am afraid that, due to my… disability and because you need the practice, you will be the one to take up my role. However, I will stand by and occasionally add bits and pieces or none at all."

Eragon felt a lump in his throat. He imagined him attempting to teach Arya things she already knew and making an idiot of himself, stumbling through lessons with stammers like a bumbling fool. Eragon shook his head and sighed. "Aye, I understand… though it is quite a daunting idea."

Oromis smiled and Glaedr chuckled. "Ah, yes. I do somewhat understand your reluctance. She is quite a proud figure. I advise you not to drive her too far, but understand that pushing her outside of her comfort zone is of utmost importance. We cannot risk disruption during her training brought about because of petty feelings and arguments. But I am sure that Arya is wise enough to restrain herself," said Oromis with a hint of amusement colouring his light voice. He set his own cup of tea down on the table.

Eragon nodded seriously.

_Don't be so tense Eragon, it's just Arya. Besides, we have been through a lot with her, haven't we? During her lessons, be mindful of her pride and just be yourself. Don't forget, I'll be there to smooth things out if things get out of hand._

_Thanks Saphira, I am most humbled._

_Do not be sarcastic Eragon, it ill becomes you._

Eragon grunted and gazed around, letting his consciousness seep into the tranquility of the atmosphere. The smell of pine trees reached his nostrils and Eragon was again reminded of Arya. Again more than a little irate, Eragon racked his brain for another question, determined to avoid thinking of the elven princess.

"Master?"

"Yes, Eragon?"

"Why did the egg not hatch for Arya before she touched it at the ceremony? Three days ago, I showed it to her. It is a question I've been meaning to ask you for some time. Why is it that when I found Saphira's egg, it did not hatch after some time? I thought that when the eggs were ferried between races in the days of old, the dragon eggs would hatch instantly by touch."

"That is correct, but circumstances have changed and you must remember that Saphira was in Galbatorix's hands for a time. Think of what he may have done to her egg in that period. She would have to have been cautious of everything and everyone. My theory is that she hatched for you after she was certain that it was your touch she felt and she was in no immediate danger. I think it was the same for Arya, though the hatching of her egg was faster- which is I think, due to the fact that the dragon sensed it was involved in a ceremony. This brought back memories from years ago before Galbatorix's treacherous assault. Which reminds me, have you your paper on King Andolin's battle tactics?"

Eragon nodded and drew out a piece of parchment. Oromis took it with his long fingers and sat reading it, studying it thoughtfully.

"Hm… a bit brief, but amenable all the same. Tell me, what was your opinion on his short siege of Dauth? Was it a futile struggle do you think?"

"I think, since he was in great need of resources, the menial fight was nothing compared to his small success. His cavalry was somewhat disorganised and not as effective as his infantry, who were able to breach the walls without much difficulty, so I would say that, despite his death, the siege was quite commendable."

Oromis nodded. "You have had a small span of time to prove and sculpt yourself as a rider, but you have both matured and grown stronger, faster than anyone I have ever met. You and Saphira's training is now complete save for one thing."

_We now believe you are ready for the knowledge of the Vault of Souls_, rumbled Glaedr in his deep voice.

Saphira and Eragon blinked simultaneously.

Oromis paused for a time before continuing. "You both know that, before Galbatorix's reign, all pure spirits passed off into the void, do you not?"

Eragon nodded. A puff of smoke trailed out from Saphira's nostrils.

"Many years ago, we found that the souls of the dead could be used for quick recuperation- meaning that, wherever you may be, energy can be drawn from these souls so that you may make up for your losses. The Vault of Souls is exactly that, a vault of energy filled. Only… it is filled with an infinite number of souls whose energy satisfies the greed of Galbatorix and, as you have seen, Murtagh."

Eragon felt a chill run down the length of his body as he realised the terrible implications.

_Then that means, every man who has fallen in battle, every woman, child who has died in any way, has had their souls trapped in the vault by Galbatorix to fulfill his evil intentions! Everyone… even Brom…_ Eragon thought.

Saphira gave a dangerous rumble, baring her sharp teeth and lips curled in a snarl. _Foul savage! Oathbreaker! Putrid flesh! Living carcass! Enemy of all, made together by stringing the most depraved of flesh! _

Glaedr's huge claws sank into the earth so deeply that it made trenches that would each protect at least forty men in battle. _Yes, he has done something that can never be forgiven._

Oromis nodded sagely, his eyes flickering with the flames of fire. "By taking control of these souls and using them to build up his power, Galbatorix has, in a sense, doomed himself, for he has done so in return for a terrible price. There were those who were affected, driven to madness… even a forsworn was changed, raving mad, people called him and death was perhaps welcome to him. Only Galbatorix has been known to succeed in even partially mastering the skill to gain control of these souls without being destroyed. Morzan, however, was always wary of it, mayhap afraid of its power and did not involve himself in it. As for where it is located, no one has ever found out, except for Galbatorix himself and a few of his most trusted servants. You told me before, Eragon, that the werecat Solembum told you of its whereabouts: the rock of Kuthian. Unfortunately, I have searched every scroll in Ellesmera but to no avail."

Eragon bowed his head, trying to hide his disappointment. Then he looked up to see Oromis' grey eyes gazing far out to Ellesmera, where the clangings of hammer upon steel were heard. His gaze then turned to Eragon and Saphira and he looked at them gravely.

"But do not despair Eragon, for Galbatorix has had only a taste of the power. It will be a long while before he can take full control of the vault, for it is a perilous task. However, be that as it may, he is still more than a formidable foe, for he has had many years to hone his skills."

"Yes, Master."

Oromis sighed. "That is why you have brought us hope, Eragon. Your vision proved that you can reach the vault without actually going to it… so you may be able to control some souls but you will not be able to go far. That is why we must find the rock of Kuthian so urgently."

_And when we do find it, what must we do then? Do we attempt to harness its full power? _asked Saphira.

"No!" exclaimed Oromis, his smooth face turning white. "No! Never that! Have you not listened to me Saphira Bjartskular? It drove all who sought to gain control of it mad!"

"Then what must we do? It is Galbatorix's weakness, surely we must…" then Eragon's stopped as he realised what Oromis was trying to convey.

"Yes, you must destroy it."

Arya stood without shivering on the precipice overlooking the east of Ellesmera. She stood as still as a statue, haunting and beautiful. Midnight black hair flew about her face, whipping it. Still she gazed towards the west, her dark green eyes far away, full of untold stories and knowledge. Three days had passed since that day, that fateful day. How she had wished and wished for the new rider to appear. It had been granted, but not quite as she had expected. The burden had been handed to her.

_No, not a burden. 'Twas a gift_, she thought.

Arya looked down at the little dragon by her feet that was camouflaging against the grass. It snorted and rubbed itself against her leg and Arya smiled slightly. Even after Arya gave it food or whatever it wanted, the dragon always sought attention. She bent down and picked it up delicately.

"When shall you be satisfied, little one?" she said, laughing. Then she stopped and frowned. _When have I become so carefree? I cannot _laugh _at a time like this._

An image of meat flashed in her mind and Arya scowled, puzzled. Then she realised once again that it had come from the dragon… _her_ dragon.

"Nay, little dragon. I am afraid you cannot eat meat, it would mean inflicting needless pain on other beings. No, you will eat fruit and vegetables."

And with that, Arya turned to go, ignoring the squeal of protest the young dragon gave- only to stand facing Eragon and Saphira. Her whole body tensed and with an inward groan, remembered the night when she had asked him to dance with her. _Barzul_, she thought vehemently.

"Yes, Eragon and Saphira?"

"We have been searching for you and… your dragon for some time Arya Svit-Kona. I trust you have been communicating with your dragon frequently these past few days?"

With some surprise, Arya noticed that he did not appear awkward or nervous as he usually was when talking to her. She relaxed, trying not to show her relief. _So, he has finally abandoned his youthful ardour for me_, she thought, satisfied. Despite herself, she felt a tiny speck of disappointment mingling with her triumph. _At last._

She nodded. "Yes, he expects my full attention every day," she said with a small smile.

Eragon grinned. "That is certainly good to hear. It seems you are bonding with your dragon quite rapidly."

_Yes, that is indeed good news. One question: is it truly a he?_ asked Saphira seemingly casually.

Arya caught Eragon turning away to hide his amusement and Arya herself forced down her already curling lips. "Aye. It is most certainly a he."

The green dragon in her arms gave a snort of indignant frustration. It sent her another image of meat. In answer, Arya sent it an image of strawberries. After a quiet duel of images, Arya looked up to see Saphira and Eragon staring at them both.

"He has a strong liking for meat," she explained lamely.

Eragon laughed. "It was the same for Saphira as well." He nudged Saphira's scaly leg playfully. "You two have something in common Saphira."

Saphira growled and swiped at Eragon's head, purposely missing. Arya watched them, amused and slightly envious of their strong bond. She looked down at her own partner-of-her-life and wished dearly that she would be able to have such a bond with him.

"Soon, little one, soon," she murmured to it.

The emerald dragon gazed back at her with wise green eyes.

"Well, have you a name for it, or have you named it already?" Eragon asked.

"Is that why you came here?"

"That, and to see how you are getting on with him."

Arya paused, cocking her head. "I have not named him yet. How about… Hírador?"

The dragon hissed. Eragon frowned. "What about Galzra?"

Flapping its wings against Arya, who winced, the green dragon snapped at Eragon, baring its sharp teeth.

"He's uh… very violent," said Eragon uncertainly. "It seems he doesn't like me very much."

_He'll do_, said Saphira smugly.

Arya laughed. Then as quickly as she had laughed, a frown settled on her brows. After a few seconds of contemplation, Arya froze, and she looked down at the dragon in her arms.

"Are you Vanilor?" she whispered barely audibly.

The green dragon hummed contentedly.


	17. Perhaps

**Perhaps**

_No, no. _Saphira chided Vanilor. _You must swing your tail side to side… that's it; can you feel the pull towards the opposite direction? Your tail must serve as a propeller, a rudder. Flying isn't all about flapping your wings. _

"Are we interrupting things Saphira?" Eragon called out to her, amusement dancing in his eyes. Behind him, Arya followed silently, gliding towards them with feet so light they barely brushed the soft grass in the clearing. Saphira stopped in the middle of her instructions, and both mentor and pupil stopped to lift their scaly heads. It had been many weeks since Eragon and Saphira had begun to instruct and train Arya and Vanilor. The emerald dragon had already learned to speak and Saphira had shown even more delight in this advancement than Eragon or even Arya. As soon as the impediment of communicating with images was solved, Saphira had descended upon Vanilor's strict training on flying and studies on history, botany, geography, and many others besides. But flying she paid particular attention to, and stressed much importance on so many specific aerial manoeuvres that it nearly drove the younger dragon to madness. If Arya disliked this method of teaching, she did not express it outwardly. However, Eragon suspected that it gave her some discomfort to see her dragon being driven so hard, especially by a dragon such as Saphira. Presently, Saphira snorted and flicked her tail down impatiently.

_Yes, Eragon. _You_ are… especially with your loud, teasing voice. Arya, however, is silent and careful not to disturb Vanilor's lesson. I was getting to a particularly crucial concept… until you arrived_, Saphira replied irritably.

_Ah, yes. The tail._

Saphira regarded him with narrowed eyes, but the glint in them betrayed her amusement.

Eragon was unable to contain the chuckle that escaped from his lips. He jerked his chin towards Vanilor, signalling with his eyes.

"Well then, carry on," he said aloud.

"Yes, continue. I should like to see Vanilor fly," Arya spoke for the first time. Her voice was calm, cool and controlled.

The lilt of her voice- after a time of walking to the clearing without a word from her- startled Eragon. He looked back at her, trying to discern any obvious expression upon her face- there were none. Eragon could not, for the life of him, understand this mysterious woman before him. She told him with her eyes to watch Vanilor. Eragon quickly averted his eyes and fixed them on the green dragon. Vanilor unfurled his membranous wings and shook them slightly, smoothing out creases and tested the feel of the wind. Then, with a great flap, he lifted himself up into the air, applying his knowledge from previous lessons, taking care to exert effort into the movement of the appropriate parts of his body. Often times he would be buffeted by the wind, as his body was still rather on the light side, and Eragon had to hide a smile. After around half an hour, Vanilor had flown the perimeter of the clearing at least fifty times, guided by Saphira's instructions and often impatient words. However, upon observation, it was quite clear that Vanilor wasn't as suited to the sky as Saphira. While Saphira required no effort in moving through the air and using the wind as much as her wings to fly, Vanilor it seemed, needed more effort to maintain equilibrium and cut through the air like his master. Arya nodded, satisfied.

"He does not have Saphira's talent, but he will be proficient in no time. With Saphira teaching him, I think he will do fine," she murmured to herself as much as she said it to Eragon.

Eragon nodded in agreement; glad more than anything that she was talking again. It was too silent, too unpredictable without the sound of her voice gracing his ears. "Aye, and he will grow to a fair size soon. Then you will be able to ride him."

A true smile touched her lips. "Yes… there is that too."

After a few more laps, Vanilor alighted on a great pine tree, his (still smooth) tongue limp. Saphira snorted and shook her head, but relented all the same.

_We shall leave the rest for tomorrow. Come, Vanilor, it is time for hunting. _

Vanilor instantly straightened, fatigue from before tossed aside at the prospect of food. So unexpectedly, a clear, bell-like laugh was released, short but ringing. Eragon, Saphira and Vanilor turned their heads to the source of the sound. A slender hand modestly covered her lips as Arya looked at her dragon with amusement… and fondness. Such a soft expression it was, the laughter spread across her face like the spider's thread wet with dew in the morn. Her eyes… her eyes shone with an unsuppressed light, somehow enhancing her perfect features even more so that she almost passed for some angelic entity. And Eragon almost believed it himself for a moment, and he thought her very beautiful indeed. Not because of her physical features, but because of now bared beauty of her soul- the Arya he knew, and loved… because of who she was. Then the moment passed, like a fading dream, leaving the world mundane and him feeling rather drained. Arya uncovered her mouth and pressed her lips together to stop smiling.

"Excuse me, I could not help myself," she explained lamely, as the three faces stared at her. "Why do you look at me so? Have you not heard me laugh before?"

_Of course we have_, Saphira replied calmly. _Now, let us stop gawking like imbeciles and move on. Eragon, I will meet you at the tree. Vanilor, come with me- and do not worry, Arya, he is safe with me._

Arya bowed her head. "Of course, Saphira."

Both mentor and pupil then took to the sky, their translucent wings mighty and beautiful in the sunlight. Eragon and Arya stood watching the two, until they became specks in the distant expanse of the sky. A comfortable silence descended upon them as human and elf let the breeze caress their faces. The grass swayed and rustled, squirrels and wood-creatures moved about, tiny paws grasped the trunks of trees, and the smell of pine hung light in the air.

Finally, Eragon turned and smiled at her. Arya felt his gaze and held it for a second and then returned the smile, albeit a little uncertainly.

Eragon's smile broadened and he gestured towards Tialdari Hall. "Shall we?"

"We shall," answered Arya with a small smile, and swept past him with clean strides.

While they walked, Eragon noticed a change in Arya's bearing. It was much more relaxed and natural, as opposed to the stiff one before. He decided he liked this Arya, very much indeed. There was, however, one other change in her: uncertainty. Ever since Vanilor's naming, Arya had been quite strange, in Eragon's opinion. She was the same as ever- quiet, independent and unfathomable, but lately, though she seemed less tense, Arya also seemed less certain. She knew not where to put her hand, by her side or both together, fidgeting. Or when he caught her looking at him, she held his stare for a brief moment and then looked quickly away, frowning. This scene of peace and companionship was, therefore, rare. Other times, Arya would be forever deep in thought and either avoid his gaze or study his face, as if trying to discern something. Sometimes… she would be so engrossed in her contemplations (he assumed) that she seemed not to hear him. Eragon stole glances at her, wondering what she was thinking- or rather, what was eating at her.

"Islanzadi will be pleased to hear of Vanilor's progress," he said, wanting to break the silence.

Arya nodded without looking at him. "Yes… but I wonder how much more time we can spare. Galbatorix still eyes Du Weldenvarden like a hawk eyes its prey. And it is only a matter of time before he decides to rise from his throne rather than lifting his finger."

It was succinct and intended to be a simple analysis but it slammed Eragon in the face with the force of the words. He flinched, feeling as if he had just been drenched in cold water.

Arya noticed this and seemed ashamed, embarrassed even. She bit her lower lip with a small grimace.

"I am sorry… it was not meant to be so…"

"No matter," Eragon said. "It is true… every day, nay, every second we stay here training; Galbatorix advances one step at a time. And still we cannot stop, for we cannot hope to overthrow the king with my current…level of competency."

Eragon uttered those last words with a bitter taste on his tongue.

So softly that he wondered whether he had heard it right, Arya's voice broke the silence.

"I do not think so."

He glanced at her. Arya met his gaze with an intensity that startled him.

"Whatever you may believe, you are the person for this task Eragon. Do not underestimate yourself- you are capable. Oromis knows it, Brom knew it, Saphira knew it and I… I have faith in you."

Eragon stared at her, surprised but also immensely grateful for her unexpected words.

"You are too kind, Arya Svit-Kona. But I thank you for your words, nevertheless," he thanked her softly.

She gave a gracious tilt of the chin, seemingly satisfied.

They walked on, enjoying the peace and scenery. Birdsong echoed around them, the trees sighed and the wind remained gentle. Eragon wondered whether Vanilor was successful in his hunting. His thoughts wandered till they reached the very topic he had been attempting to ignore: the Vault of Souls. After some internal debating, Eragon decided to tell Arya.

He told her everything- his dreams and Oromis' words. Arya stopped in her tracks when he mentioned that Galbatorix himself was using it to augment his power. She slowly turned her head to gape at him- which was strange on her face.

"So that is his source of power? You had told me before of this Vault of Souls… but I did not think… I never _imagined _it would be so. This is news indeed…"

"Aye, but please do not tell anyone else. I would prefer it if this information stayed with you and maybe Vanilor."

Arya nodded in agreement. "Yes, it is dangerous knowledge. You would do well to keep it secret," she said gravely.

"Of course."

"But what I do not understand… is why- or _how_ you can access this Vault in your dreams."

Eragon ran a hand through his tangled hair. "I don't know… I just can. And those eyes…" he shuddered.

Arya regarded him with open curiosity. "First you scry me in your dreams, then you have premonitions, and now we find that you are able to access the Vault of Souls… most interesting."

Eragon chuckled nervously. "I don't think I want to be interesting. If I can dethrone Galbatorix, that's enough for me."

A smile tugged at the corners of Arya's lips. "Perhaps. But war can change one's perception, not his disposition. We shall see… it is natural for one to want more than they are given."

"Ah yes, I had forgotten your philosophical thinking. I shall be more wary of it next time, lest you give me more of it," Eragon replied, grinning.

"Be careful of what you say Eragon," said Arya dangerously, but with amusement in her eyes.

"Of course, Arya Svit-Kona."

They finally reached the stairs to the Hall and entered to be greeted by the council and the Queen. The twelve elven lords and ladies stopped in mid-discussion and turned their focus on Eragon and Arya.

Eragon and Arya bowed.

Islanzadi, fully armoured and cross-legged upon her throne, beckoned them forward.

"Ah yes, Eragon and Arya. What news have you of Vanilor's training?"

"My lady, Vanilor is progressing well and quite rapidly due to Saphira's training. He has completed the aerial manoeuvres required and merely needs practice and further teaching on other studies," Eragon informed her.

"His form is improving and he is beginning to show signs of better muscle co-ordination," added Arya.

"Which shows he has more control over his body-"

"He will be a great deal bigger in no time."

"And also more coherent and articulate in thought and communication."

"He just needs more time," Eragon and Arya said simultaneously.

They looked at each other in surprise.

An awkward silence ensued.

The Queen and council stared at them with disconcerting looks.

"I see…" said Islanzadi, pronouncing the words slowly and clearly. "Well, I am glad he is progressing swiftly, and by the stars, all know that we are dependent on his growth. See to it that his training proceeds at the same rate, if not faster, for we are running out of time. The Varden are preparing to lay a siege on Feinster."

"When?" asked Eragon, alarmed.

"In a month or a little more, by Nasuada's reckoning," replied Islanzadi, her green eyes still flicking from him to Arya and back again.

"A month? But it has not been long since Vanilor hatched, he is not even fit to carry a cat, much less his rider!" Eragon protested.

Islanzadi's mouth twitched. "It is the Varden's decision, not mine. I have sent out my own army, Shadeslayer. Soon after you depart, I will follow. It is our _duty_, Eragon. I am sorry, but this is the best we can do… though it pains me to admit it."

Before Eragon could talk more, Arya grabbed his arm with a vice-like grip and steered him towards the door, saying, "Of course, my lady. We will train him as best we can in the time we have left."

Islanzadi nodded and she and the council returned to their previous heated discussion.

When they were out, Eragon was lost for words. Arya let out a sigh she had been holding. Eragon whirled towards her, his face incredulous.

"How are we to do this Arya? We- Vanilor… I- argh! This is ridiculous; we can't go out there like this! What is Vanilor going to do in battle, take a swipe with his claws? He's not ready for you to ride him." He turned away, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at the sky in frustration.

With a hint of irritation in her voice, Arya answered: "Well, what did you expect? Already the Varden's supply is decreasing- maybe fluctuating, but surely decreasing. There are spies in the Varden, Eragon. And for every week we are absent, those spies are feeding information to the Empire."

Eragon's shoulders loosened in defeat. "I know," he mumbled.

"I dislike this as much as you Eragon," Arya said more gently. "But we must… for the good of Alagaesia."

"… For the good of Alagaesia," Eragon finally agreed, though a little sadly. "I'm sorry, I'm just worried about our survival- well… Saphira, Vanilor… and you."

Arya looked away uncomfortably.

"Saphira is experienced, you are experienced, and at least I can protect myself," Eragon continued. "But Vanilor, he cannot breathe fire yet and he is not ready to carry you. I am confident in your abilities… but…"

"But we need more time, I know Eragon."

Arya shook her head and sighed. "Ah, this is pointless dithering, we should continue the training. Are you not my master?"

Eragon couldn't help but smile at that- though a little weakly. "Ah yes, I had forgotten."

As Arya turned to go, Eragon called her.

"Arya…"

She turned back to give him a questioning look.

"We are friends… I have known you for a long time. And Saphira too, knows you well. I was thinking, Vanilor, Saphira, you and I… we are like a family, are we not?" he asked jokingly, though his eyes were serious.

Arya regarded him a while before answering. "Perhaps."


End file.
